#can i write anything without angst creeping in?

[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[laurorne]

༊*·˚ CRAVING YOUR WARMTH | aegon ii targaryen x targaryen bastard sister!reader

summary: two dragons who seek to move closer for warmth during their grief must remain apart, as they can only hurt one another with their sharp teeth and barely contained flames. though they both share the intentions of a close relationship, they're unable, for reasons they cannot avoid.

content: targaryen incest, angst, allusion of self-mutilation/harm, bastardphobia in westeros, night after intimacy suggested, self-hatred, blood, wonky metaphors and personification, no beta we die like vizzy t, badly written angst, that damn necklace

word count: 1.5k

a/n: let me tell you that i struggle writing angst, but god do i love reading it. i'm like my own self entertaining paradoxical concept and it astounds me

A gentle hand smoothing over his back is what stirs him from the throes of sleep, nails skating along his marked skin softly enough to tickle. He shifts as the hand moves from the expanse of his back up to his hair, rubbing circles into the crown of his head. Twirling bits of hair between deft fingers as she presses a kiss to the slope of his shoulder.

He hums, limbs stretching out clumsily as he rolls onto his side, fingers weak as his hand dances along the goose-down duvet until it reaches her. Her, and her softness, and her warmth.

“Wife.” He’s barely awake, even with the exasperated sigh that comes from his older sister.

“We are not wed, Aegon.” A gentle reminder from soft lips, her eyes taking in his tired demeanour, the curve of his brow.

She brushes the strand of choppy hair from his face, thumb dragging along the apple of his cheek.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, lids finally fluttering open as he stares up at her with those watery eyes. The ones he knew made her weak to suggestion. He lets his hand creep up her calf –where he can still feel the divets of scars from their childhood running through the gardens– until it finds home on the hand she has in her lap, he threads his fingers with hers. The number of rings adorning her fingers was thanks to him: he and his obsession with keeping his older sister glamoured. 

Imported Dornish rings that gleamed with the heat of the sun, Essosi ornate cloth and dresses that were far from the modesty of Court, hair pins adorned with pearls from the Summer Isles, and an intricate necklace crafted from the smelted metal of a Valyrian sword, inlaid with gemstones he had pulled from the Red Keeps vaults.

She was wearing it now, the stones gleaming under the sun that spotted through the lace curtains of her room. The engraved details scatter the few beams of light they catch like dew drops upon spider silk. The stones dangle between the valley her breasts create, the smallest of them twirls some intricate dance as she shifts. Like molten silver, it fits her without any of the stiffness metal should have. 

“We should be.” He glances down at his hand intertwined with hers and watches her thumb rub over his —in the way she always has ever since childhood— it makes him all the more rueful.

He’s hopeful, far beyond it. His bones ache and his head throbs from a swelling hangover, and he feels his throat ache something terrible at its use. His eyes trail from their hands to her face, he wants anything aside from sorrow to be there.

It’s worse. 

Her brows are furrowed as she stares down at him with pity, oh how he wishes it wasn’t pity.

“Oh, sweet boy.” She pulls her hand from his grasp and holds his face in her gentle hands with all the care he needs. “Some things, they just can’t be.”

His lip curls, a pathetic smile covering his visage as he cups the backs of her hands in his own. “But they could. Helaena would not care, she loathes our marriage. As do I. We could take Valyrian vows on Dragonstone. Just as our sister and uncle have. We could leave.”

“Aegon.” A wistful breath of his name, pained and twisted with grief of things that never were and never will.

“We don’t need to stay. Just you and I, riding atop Sunfyre. Across the Narrow Sea.” He moves onto his knees, staring into her wet doe-like eyes as he speaks. He doesn’t leave her an opportunity to doubt him. Doesn’t allow her to pull away as he keeps her hands on his jaw.

Her lips twitch and so do her fingers against his. “Aegon, don’t be foolish.”

“You mustn’t know what you mean to m-”

“Aegon, please.” She tries to pull away now, but he winds his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and presses forward. Wine-stained lips crushing against the curve of her nose, fluttering across her brow like the gentle wings of a cotton moth as it devours silks and linen allied— devourer of all things beautiful and plain. 

He drags his lips to hers finally, soaking her up in a way only someone as depraved as he could. It’s like stretching out upon a rock after not feeling the son for years, like stripping yourself of shackles you’ve worn since birth. Her lips are chapped, a split in her lips from all the worrying she does to the poor thing scratches along his upper. He surges forward, pulling her so fully against him that it fills some empty part of him, like a puzzle piece that’s never been slotted into place. But oh —how it has— and how it always disappears just as quickly as it comes to him. He licks at her bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth and shudders out a breath as she reciprocates. Her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as they finally shut, as she cups his neck and presses her butterfly kisses onto him, licks into his mouth as she breathes hotly across his face in a way only Aegon can enjoy.

He nips at her tongue accidentally, overexcited and eager as he is. And that seems to bring her back from whatever hole he had dragged her into. But he persists, hand drifting down to the smooth metal of her necklace as he thumbs at a jewel. He tries to savour her presence even as her face scrunches and her fingers fist the hairs behind his ears. It nearly pains Aegon, with the way his head tilts away from her just slightly, Adams apple jumping against pale skin as he stares oh-so adoringly, heady breaths stinking of wine fanning her bruised lips.

“We could start a family in Essos. As many children as you want.” He desperately reaches for her again.

“Aegon.” 

“A home in Braavos, on the beach. Where we could lo-”

A hiccuped sob that withers in her throat is what stops him, punches the wind from his lungs.

Her lips are pursed and her hands have loosed upon his hair and move to cup his ruddy cheeks. Nails pressing into the flesh of his face hazardously. His eyes are dark and his lips part as he stares up at her, he sees the tears edging along her waterline. That deep frown she has when she’s trying not to cry, whether it's about something he had done or when she’s ordered by their Grandsire to stop her hysterics.

“Aegon,” It’s a sullen whisper as she lets his face go entirely, fingers slipping down his chest before they land in her lap again. “I am not a trueborn daughter. I will never be. I am not right in the mind. I will birth lunatics and monsters and wailing death. You can’t love me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, for once he has no sharp-tongued quip or comment. He pushed her from a height, just when she had finally reached the top of her spire. He retracts, fingers loosening from the grip he had on her pale hair, and lets her fall back onto the plush of her bed as she stares up at him like he’s burnt her. Like he’s dragged a dagger across the soft of her flesh and told her he never loved her. She pushes herself away, curling in on herself as tears cut through the flush of her cheeks. A wobbly exhale, and another as he drags a hand through her hair.

Her fingers dance down her neck and across the skin of her arms where they find home on the pale scars marring the upper parts of her arms. He can see her fingertips quivering with the urge to dig. To pull at chords of muscle beneath her skin and scratch at her bones. She had told him about things she saw. Things that hunted at the edge of her vision and scattered when she went looking. Dreams that came to the waking world with her. A pale man with the stench of darkness seeping from his pores.

“I love yo-” He leans forward to comfort her. 

“You don’t.”

“I know that I love you.”

“You know nothing, Aegon.” She pulls herself to the edge of the bed and drags herself to stand, the silk bedsheets slip away and her goosebumps raise upon her bruise-marred skin, she’s as bare as the day she was born. Her throat is too tight and her necklace feels heavy as she stumbles to the secret passage, she slips from the room unbidden and leaves a smudge of blood on the wooden grain of the bookcase as Aegon sits in her bed. Salty tears of his own roll down his face as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

[cherryobx]

turn the radio up - I have so many songs I want to share with you sjsj. but they all seem difficult to write with bc ofc my music taste is basically really emotional songs jsjs. but a classic that i’ll always love is iris by the goo goo dolls !! maybe that could be a cute one with like comfort or something? but idk, you’re the writer hihi. so do with it whatever you want <3

Iris

summary: you go looking for JJ after a big fight with his dad and it ends with a confession of feelings

a/n: it was supposed to be based on that song but i got kinda carried away so this will have to do lol, also, i was too lazy to proofread so let me know if you spot any mistakes

wc: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of JJ's dad (deserves a warning), happy ending tho

“Have you guys seen JJ?” You barge into the chateau where all of your friends are currently watching a movie on John B’s old and kind of broken TV. Well, everyone except one.

“Weren’t you two supposed to go ‘midnight surfing’ together?” Kiara asks from her spot on the floor. Even if she would’ve fit on the couch, she preferred to sit on the floor as she found it more comfortable.

“We were but he never showed up.” Your voice is full of worry. He never just stands you up like this. He’s late all the time but he always shows up eventually. He’d never do this to you intentionally which is why you’re so worried in the first place.

“He probably just fell asleep,” John B butts in, eyes glued to the TV screen in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, go check his place, see if he’s home,” Kie suggests. “Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Stay and enjoy your movie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You rush out of there as fast as you arrived, grabbing your bicycle and biking towards JJ’s house. 

JJ doesn’t live very far away so you’re there in a couple of minutes. In fact you can reach everywhere in Kildare in a very short amount of time. It’s a small place. 

Leaving your bike in the driveway, you creep up to the window of his bedroom. You didn’t want to take the risk of knocking on the door and running into JJ’s dad. It’s a small risk since he’s away most of the time but it’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

The light in his room is not on but the light from the moon reveals enough, he’s not there. If JJ’s not in his room he’s not home. It’s as simple as that. 

Your worry increases. If he’s not at the chateau and if he’s not at home, where the hell is he? 

You walk back to where you left your bike and start walking away from there, pushing the bike beside you. You need a second to think. Where could he be?Why didn’t he call? Did something happen? With his dad maybe? It’s very possible. JJ’s dad is not known for his kind heart and sweet words. You suspect that might be the cause because nothing else could make JJ miss hanging out with you. Especially without saying anything.

Where would you go if you were JJ?

You walk and ponder for a while. There are not very many places JJ would go in a time like this. Usually he goes to the chateau or your place because they’re more his home than his actual home ever was.

Then it dawns on you. There’s this place that JJ showed you a couple of months ago. He made you swear not to tell anyone. Even made you pinky swear. He said it’s his secret spot, somewhere he goes when he needs a moment alone and space to think. 

It’s a really beautiful place and it became your favourite spot too. It’s not far from the chateau but it’s hidden enough to be private. There’s a big oak tree near a small creek. When it’s sunny, the sun shines through the leaves and makes the water sparkle and it’s magical. Beautiful, really.

You’re sure that’s where he must be. 

Hopping onto your bike you ride there in a record time. You leave your bike at the side of the road and push through the bushes and trees to reach this secret spot of JJ’s. Well, yours too now.

And there he is. JJ’s sitting on the ground, on the green soft moss, his back leaning against the oak tree. His knees are pulled up to his chest and his hands are resting on them. Even if he hears you approaching, he doesn’t turn his head to look. He just keeps looking ahead.

It’s even more magical in the middle of the night than it is during the day.

You sit down beside him carefully so as not to startle him. “Hey,” you say softly.

His face is covered in various cuts and bruises.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is raspy and devoid of all emotion. He still won’t look at you.

“I came looking for you. You didn’t show at the beach. I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He throws a rock into the creek and the splash of water sounds so loud in the quiet of the night. 

“What? Why?”

He stays quiet. His lips are pulled between his teeth as if to specifically stop himself from speaking.

“JJ, talk to me.” You place your hand on his.

“Got into it with my dad again. It’s nothing. Just go.” He shrugs your hand off, physically pulling away from you. It hurts because JJ never denies physical touch from you. In fact, he craves it. He initiates it most of the time. His hands are always on you no matter what. It’s one of the things you love about him so much. Among many other things.

“You shouldn’t be alone here.”

“I don’t want you here right now,” he bursts out, finally looking at you. His eyes are red and so full of hurt.

You're taken aback by his words, mouth agape at his outburst. “What?”

“You heard me. I don’t want you here. So just go home. I don’t care.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Even though his words hurt, you stand your ground and don’t back down. He needs you there. At least, you’d need him in a situation like this, you think.

“Then I’m going.” He stands up and starts to leave. 

You shoot up from the ground and grab his hand to stop him.

“Let go of me.” He stops and stares at your hand gripping his wrist. It must be painful with the way you're digging your nails into his skin but you don’t let go.

“No.”

“Y/N…” he warns, his tone low and angry.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let the fuck go of me.” He’s actually angry now but doesn’t make a move. You know he doesn’t actually want to go.

You’re desperate now. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’m right here JJ.”

“I want to be alone right now.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re a fucking liar.”

He seems genuinely taken aback by that. “Excuse me?”

“You fight with your dad all the time. And I get it, it’s hard and I’m sorry. But you never pull away from me like that. Never. I know you like the back of my hand, JJ. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” he snarls.

“Your problems are my problems, right? Isn’t that what you said to me when I was sick last month and you wouldn’t leave my side? What happened to that, huh?”

There’s a beat of silence where the only things heard are the running water, rustling of leaves and your angry breathing.

He sighs and you feel him relax in your grip but you still won’t let go, scared that he’ll flee as soon as you do. 

“We fought.”

“I know.”

“About you.”

Now you’re genuinely aghast. “What?” You blink in confusion, your grip on his hand loosening.

“He said some stuff I can never say to you and I couldn’t see you after that. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing you after the things he said.”

“What did he say?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“No. And don’t fucking argue because I will take those words to grave with me. I’ll make sure of that.”

You nod. Maybe it’s for the best.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Am I okay?” he chuckles dryly. “Never been better. I feel like a fucking loser, a failure with an asshole for a dad. And I’m so fucking alone that it physically hurts in here.” He places his hand right over his heart. 

“You’re none of those things, JJ. Not to anyone, not to me.”

“Who’s the fucking liar now?”

“I’m not fucking lying, JJ!” You force him to look into your eyes. “Your dad might be an asshole, a big one at that, but you’re not a failure or a loser. I don’t know how but didn’t turn out like him. You have a future. He threw it away. And you’re not alone. You have us,” you refer to your friends. “And you have me.”

You place your other hand on his hand that’s still on his chest. “You’ll always have me.”

“Not in the way I want. Not in the way I need.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know, I’ve never taken anyone here before.” He looks around his secret little getaway. “You’re the first person I’ve shown it to. The only one I thought it was worth showing to.”

Your eyes remain on his face as he talks, taking in his features. 

“I’ve never wanted to take anyone here before. I didn't understand why I wanted to show you this place so badly. Why it mattered to me if you liked it or not? And then I realized I’m in love with you and I’m absolutely fucked.”

I blink slowly, mouth agape, as I try to process his words. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah. And I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because it fucking ruins everything. You’re never gonna wanna speak to me again and things are gonna be so awkward and-”

I interrupt his rambling. “Have you even asked me what I feel?”

“What?”

“You go on this tangent about how your feelings for me are horrible but you don’t even know how I feel. So ask me. Ask me what I feel for you, JJ.”

“What do you feel for me?”

“I feel like I want to hit you, JJ. I’ve been in love with you for like… ever and you didn’t even seem to notice. I’ve made it very clear. Hell, everyone else except you knows that I’m head over heels for your stupid ass.”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“Of course I’m fucking serious, JJ. You think I’d tell you this for shits and giggles?”

“You-” he wants to say something but seems to think twice and before you know it his lips are on yours. His hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you close. You melt against his body, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“That was for shits and giggles.” He pulls away, completely out of breath.

“Totally,” you say and pull him back against your lips for another kiss.

“But I mean it, JJ,” you state when you finally separate again.

“What?” 

“I’ll always be here for you. Through the bad and through the good. Always. I promise.”

“So do I.”

“You better,” you jokingly threaten and he laughs at that. 

“Do you wanna go to the chateau? The others are watching a movie right now.”

He denies your offer. “No, I’d rather stay here with you for now. If that’s okay?”

“It can be arranged.” You smile up at him and his face lights up.

“Good.”

join my picnic!

[starsinthesky5]

drunk in love || joe burrow x reader

description: after a whirlwind of a few months, Joe finds himself being more open with the public about your relationship, which takes you by surprise.

a/n: im glad i could get this up in time! i think the tag needs to be filled with more positivity and the usual joey b content. we can push through :) 

requested by the amazing and extremely talented @joeys-babe, you gave me great inspo! i have also learned that i loveeee writing little flashbacks into my fics just to add more context to the situation. when I’m writing it’s like i'm painting on a blank canvas, and i'm going wherever the brush takes me :) 

warnings: smuttttt, language, angst

word count: 7.7 k

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The sounds of enthusiastic fans echoed as you and Joe arrived at the Fifth Third arena for Joe’s podcast taping. Joe had been asked by the Kelce Brothers to be a guest on their live podcast recording of New Heights since they were in Cincinnati, and who better to have on than the QB1? And Joe being the polite and respectful man he is, agreed to do it. You were a bit surprised he was willing to go out in front of a big crowd of people like this and just talk. He rarely did podcasts or lengthy interviews because of the anxiety they brought him and he didn’t like to share his personal life in front of thousands of people, so you were watching him like a hawk the whole night to make sure he was doing okay. 

Right now, you both were sitting in the locker room while the brothers were doing the game portion of their podcast. You were snacking on some pretzels, offering Joe some since he hadn’t eaten anything since this afternoon, but he refused. 

“Joe, you have to eat something,” you say while pushing a bag of pretzels towards him.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled while looking at the monitor to see what was going on in the arena. 

“I refuse to believe that. We’re going to Woodys after and we both know that you drinking on an empty stomach will cause carnage,” you giggle expecting him to laugh as well, but he continues to stare at the monitor, seemingly lost in thought. 

You look down and notice that he’s bobbing his left leg up and down and is picking at his fingers, an instant signal that his anxiety was slowly creeping in. 

You quickly place your snack down, scooch your chair closer to him, and place your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. He felt the light touch of your hand and stopped bouncing his leg before looking over at you. 

His eyes met yours and you could easily tell that he was getting anxious by the way they turned a shade of deep blue. “Are you alright J?” you ask. 

Joe stays silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Just a little nervous,” he quietly says causing your face to drop. “I haven’t done this in a while and I don’t wanna get weird out there if they ask anything specific, you know?”. 

Joe was referring to getting weird if they asked any questions about his personal life. He never talks about his life behind closed doors and rarely talks about you in respect of your privacy. He was worried that they’d ask him about you or your relationship and wouldn’t know what to say or how to answer them. He never really threw the “girlfriend” tag around many people for quite a few reasons. One was that it was mostly implied that you were together, another being that he didn’t want people who may not have known about your relationship to bombard you with questions about him. He kept your relationship carefully locked away because it was the most important thing in the world to him and he was afraid that the world would rip it to shreds if you opened the door a little too much. He wanted to talk about you all the time, even telling you that he might not even be able to stop once he starts. But he just never knew when or how to talk about your relationship without making you sensitive to public discourse.

“You won’t get weird Joe,” you say as you rub his thigh. “It’s okay to be a little nervous, especially because this is out of your comfort zone. You are going to do great and I am so proud of you for doing this,” you say. “I’m gonna be right there, front row on the side. Orlando will be up there with you too. And I know Jason and Travis will respect your boundaries. Maybe they’ll just keep it all about ball,”.

He nods and grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being here,” he says, finally flashing you a genuine smile. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you say while pressing a kiss on his cheek. Joe puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in for a warm hug. He knew he’d be fine out there but couldn’t help but get a little nervous when he realized all eyes would be on him. Sure, in a football game, all 50,000+ eyes are on him, but that never bothered him because the game was his shield. 

“If you feel flustered, give me a look and I’ll cause a distraction for you to run away,” you giggle against his neck. 

He laughs and presses a kiss on your forehead, “My knight in shining armor as usual,”. 

A few minutes and a handful of pretzels later, you’re sitting on the side of the stage while Jason and Travis introduce Joe. The crowd erupts as they say Joe’s name and the song choice for his introduction makes you laugh like a hyena. “Get the Gat” was playing, a nod to the era that truly started it all for Joe. He was scanning the crowd for you as he walked toward the stage, eventually catching you in the front row, just like you said, in your stunning white dress that highlighted your most precious features. 

You gave him two thumbs up and mouthed “You got this,”. He gives you a big smile before walking up onto the stage and greeting the brothers. 

Things were going pretty smoothly for him. They were talking to him about his injury and recovery, his questionable tweets about aliens that got the entire crowd laughing their asses off, and some playful football + rivalry talk between Travis and Joe. He seemed incredibly relaxed up there and you felt relieved, until they changed the subject to the one thing that Joe was worried about. 

“So enough about ball,” Travis said. “What has Joey B been up to this off season. Where you been, Who you been with?”. 

“Uh oh,” you whispered. 

Joe laughed softly before saying “Just hanging around. Obviously training and getting better, some UFC events here and there, some boy's trips, spending time with family, but mostly spending time with my girlfriend,”. 

Your eyes widen at his words and your mouth slightly falls open. He just mentioned you in front of god knows how many people, and so casually? What the actual fuck. 

“Ohhh,” Travis smiles. “Is your lovely lady here tonight?” He asks. 

“Yeah, she’s right there,” Joe smiles and points over to you, causing literally everyone in the arena to turn and look at you. 

“Ayeee,” the brothers say in unison as the camera points over to you. 

Your cheeks turn tomato red as everyone starts cheering and waving at you, and you flash a big smile in return even though you were completely freaking out internally.

“Yep, that's her. She’s the best person in the entire world. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without her support and love,” Joe says as everyone turns back to face him. “She really knows exactly how to deal with me when I’m too in my head and always shows up for me no matter what happens. I owe a lot of how I am and how I handle things, to her” he adds.

“Awww,” said Jason. 

“Especially with this injury. I seriously don’t think I would’ve been able to get through it without her. I was in a really tough spot, mentally and physically, and she really stepped up for me,” Joe says. You feel a shift in his demeanor when he says that. From relaxed and positive, to now a little tense and serious. 

The wrist injury took a toll on Joe, and unfortunately your relationship. It took everyone by surprise when it happened as Joe was just hitting his stride after recovering from the calf strain. This was supposed to be his year and when that got taken away from him, he shut down. You tried your hardest to be there for him, and he appreciated you so much. But he needed to figure stuff out on his own which caused a bit of tension between you both. And all of it got too much for you to handle; you had to deal with his emotions, your own emotions, and help him recover on top of 100 other things that were being thrown your way. 

Little arguments became common as they always would stem at the most unexpected times. Sometimes they would happen when you would check in on how he was feeling, they’d happen during a happy moment where one of you said something that didn’t land correctly, and sometimes when he would come and apologize to you for snapping at you, but you would become a child and remain stubborn even though you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let everything out. 

Flashback to December 

It had been a few weeks since Joe got surgery on his wrist. Ever since then, he’d been acting strangely and it was driving you insane. He was watching some film all day in his office so that he could help out at practice, so you’d hardly have seen him all day. 

You got off the couch and decided to bring him a snack, some strawberries and bananas, and made your way up the stairs. 

You made your way into his office, making sure that you weren’t getting in the way of anything. He was rewinding some footage with his left hand, but was struggling to do so since his dominant hand was in a cast. 

“Here, let me help,” you say as you place the bowl of fruit down in front of him.

“It’s okay, I got it,” he says trying to grab the mouse, but he was too late as you already grabbed it and fixed it for him. You looked over at him and smiled, but in return got a loud sigh and an eye roll. 

“Gee, I was just trying to help,” you replied. 

“And I didn’t ask for any,” he mumbled, slightly irritated. Your face dropped at his tone but you decided not to push it.

“I brought you some fruit. You skipped out on lunch so I thought you’d be hungry,”.

“Thanks,” he says as he pushes the bowl to the side and goes back to the film. 

You stand there for a few moments, debating whether or not you should leave him alone or talk to him. You decided to talk to him because this mood he’d been in was not welcomed. 

“Is there something wrong? Does your arm hurt?” You ask as you rub his shoulder. 

He immediately slams the mouse to pause the film and looks up. “What’s wrong is that you won’t let me watch the film for this week. I told you I'm not hungry and you’re bothering me,” he snaps.

You’re taken aback by his sudden anger, “I was just trying to help, Joe-”.

“And how many times have I said, I don’t need it,” he spit out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step back. “I’m sorry, I- I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“I’m fine” He said, slightly shouting as he looked back over to you. 

The tears in your eyes made their way down your cheeks as you felt more angry than sad. His attitude was unfucking called for as you were just trying to check in on him. 

“You know what, fine. I’m done asking you if you’re okay and if you need something. I get that you’re hurt. I get that this is hard for you. But do not for one second think that I’m just going to sit here and take this bullshit. You’ve been acting like this for weeks, on and off. And quite frankly, it’s giving me whiplash,” you unload as more tears stream down your face.

“Y/N-,” he interrupts.

“No. Listen to me. If me helping you is bothering you, If I am bothering you, just say the word and I’ll stop. You don’t have to tell me how you’re feeling, and I’ll just stop asking. I love you, you know that. But I’m done acting like this is okay,” you spit out, tears running down your cheeks faster than a trackstar running a mile.  

He stays silent for a few seconds so you take that as a response and nod your head. You leave his office, making your way into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. He immediately felt bad for yelling at you and making you cry. He fell back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about how shitty he was. 

You lay down on your side of the bed, crying into your pillow. A million thoughts flooding your head, and a million emotions flowing through your body. You felt bad for him, you really really felt bad for him. But you started to feel bad for yourself because of how he was acting around you. Did you do something to make him act like this? He wouldn’t talk to you much about how he was feeling, so you were in limbo. 

You curled up into your pillow, a few tears still falling down your face as you heard the door open. Joe walked in and saw you laying on the bed, immediately feeling like shit because he did this to you. He walked over to the bed, crawling onto his side and gently rubbing your arm. 

“Y/N?” he asked. 

You didn’t look over at him and remained facing the windows. 

He let out a sigh before saying, “I deserve that.” 

“Listen, I am so fucking sorry for that. You didn’t do anything and I took my feelings out on you which was totally uncalled for. It’s just, I have alot going through my mind right now. But that is no excuse for me to do that to you, and you have every right to be mad. I’ve been putting you through alot lately and you’re just trying to help,”.

You turned over to face him and moved up. “So then talk to me, Joe?”. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I’m here, I’m always here,” you say as you wipe your tears. 

“I know. And I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to burden you with all my feelings,” he says.

“You could never. We’re in this together, we have been since we first met. I want you to talk to me whenever you need to. Please, do not keep your feelings bottled up like that,”.

“You’re right,” he says as he pulls you into his arms, his hand rubbing your back for comfort. “I am so so so sorry for treating you like shit. You have been nothing but helpful and patient since the surgery and my dumbass can’t seem to fathome that,” he says.

“You’re not a dumbass,” you say as you look up at him. “You just have alot going on in there,” you say as you move your hand into his hair. “Just let me in and let me help you figure it out,” you whisper.

So that’s exactly what he did. He unloaded all of his heavy feelings, self doubt, and fear onto you. And instead of running out of fear or anxiety, you stayed. You stayed and you helped him just as you said you would. 

End of Flashback 

You were holding your breaths around each other for a little bit, but luckily you got through it. It was a bumpy few months, but in the end, you got through it together and came out the other side stronger like you always do. 

“Seems like you got yourself a great lady,” Jason says, snapping you back to the present.

“I sure do,” Joe laughs while meeting your eyes, setting off butterflies in your belly. 

“So what have you guys been up to, if you don’t mind sharing? I think the fans would love to hear it,” Travis says as the fans begin to cheer.

Joe lets out a laugh and runs his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, why not. Well, we’ve gone on a few vacations, watched a bunch of movies we’ve been meaning to for a while, built some legos, and she’s taught me how to bake,”. 

The crowd lets out a laugh as he says that last thing. You were surprised at how he was being an open book right now and you didn’t know if you should be concerned at this newfound openness or ecstatic, but you were sure as hell enjoying it in the moment.

“You heard it here first, Joe Burrow knows how to bake!” They announced to the crowd. 

“Yup, it’s really not as hard as it looks,” Joe shrugs.

You let out a laugh when as says that. It really wasn’t that hard, but Joe was certainly not a pro baker as he was implying. 

Flashback to a few weeks ago 

It was a rainy evening in Cincy today, causing you and Joe to postpone your plans to walk around the neighborhood this evening. You were bored out of your mind, contemplating if you should take a nap or do something productive, but nothing sounded fun until an ad popped up on your phone for new cake pans which set off a lightbulb in your head.

“Cinnamon Rolls!” you said out loud as you just got an idea of what you could do for the evening. 

You quickly walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out everything you needed to make your famous Cinnamon Rolls, which happened to be one of Joe’s favorites, but Pumpkin Pie remained number 1. Joe was probably playing video games or watching something upstairs so you’d get to surprise him later with the delicious dessert. 

A few minutes later, you were in the zone and were starting to make the dough when you heard Joe come down the stairs. 

“Hey Babe, whatcha doing?” He says, a slight bounce in his step. He must be feeling good today, and rightfully so. He deserved to feel loose and cheerful after the past few months. 

“It’s a secret,” you giggle as you start making the liquid mixture. 

He raises his brows at you before examining the surroundings, eventually putting the puzzle together and realizing you are making Cinnamon Rolls.  

“Well, Can I help?” He asks as he walks over and hovers behind you, placing his chin on your shoulder. 

You stop mixing the Milk and Butter and look back at him, “You want to help me bake?”.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He asks as he begins pressing warm kisses on your neck. 

You stay silent for a few moments before taking advantage of his offer, “No reason. Here, let me show you how to make the dry mixture,” you say as he flashes you a big smile.

You spend a few minutes getting Joe situated with all the dry ingredients and then go back to your task. You peek over at him every few moments and although he’s making a huge mess, he seems to be doing just fine. Once you both were done with your mixtures, Joe insisted that he would make the dough in the mixer. So once again, you taught him how to use the mixer and left him to it as you started making the Cinnamon Sugar Filling. He was doing very well for someone who’s dominant hand is still not at 100%.

“Joe, this looks great!” you say as you look over his shoulder, rubbing it as you inspect the dough. 

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling proud that he was doing good for his first time baking.

“Mhmmm, just the right consistency. Very impressive for a rookie,” You tease. 

The next half hour passes by as you finish prepping the rolls. You roll out the dough and spread the cinnamon mixture across the sheet and Joe helps you roll it back up to cut the buns out. You place them in the fridge to rise and Joe takes responsibility for making the icing, so you pull over a barstool and watch him figure it out. 

“You’re doing great babe,” You smile as he begins mixing the ingredients while carefully looking at the recipe. 

“This isn’t so bad,” He says looking back up at you. “You wanna taste it? I’m almost done,”.

“Okay,” you say as he dips his finger into the icing and puts his finger out to you. A huge smirk appears on his face once you realize what he is implying. 

You pull his finger closer to your mouth and make direct eye contact for a few seconds before wrapping your lips around the sugary tip. You swirl your tongue around his finger, taking in all of the sweet icing. You both still hold eye contact, which makes you feel hot all around as you know how you are making him feel by doing this. A few seconds later, You take his finger out of your mouth and give him the same smirk he gave you.

“Was it good?” he teases. 

“Soooo good,” you purred. “Very warm, sweet, and delicious,” you say as Joe walks over to you. He grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool, causing you to let out a squeal. “What are you doing?” you giggle.

“How long do the rolls take to rise?” he asks as he lifts you onto the messy counter, flour now covering your sweatpants. 

“About an hour. Why?” you ask as he starts to kiss your neck.

“Perfect. I think I need an hour to eat my favorite dessert,” He whispers in your ear before rubbing your upper thigh. 

You don’t follow what he’s saying, “I didn’t make pumpkin pie silly,”.  

“I’m not talking about pumpkin pie,” He says while coming back into your view, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, and his fingers untying the strings of your sweatpants. 

End of Flashback 

You were incredibly smiley and cheery for the rest of the recording and kept playing back everything Joe said about you. It warmed your heart that he felt a little more comfortable opening the door, even if it was just the slightest bit, to show fans your love for each other. But you were so curious as to what changed his mind. A million thoughts were filling your head, and it also didn’t help that he looked so fucking hot. Although he was wearing a comfy, laid-back fit, he looked mouthwatering and you were trying so hard not to jump at him. The extra few pounds of muscle he gained from his training this year was showing and that messy bedhead look he was sporting was filling your head with unholy thoughts the entire time. 

Once Joe had wrapped up his appearance, you headed back to the locker room area to find him. 

He was talking to some Bearcats coaches when you found him. No stress was apparent on his face and he looked like he was just fine. You let out a relaxed sigh as you leaned on the door, letting him have his conversation without any interruptions, but he immediately felt your presence and turned around. He mumbled something to the coaches and then they walked away. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say while moving off the door.

“Yes I did,” he says as he walks over to you, immediately pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep and thorough kiss. One hand cupping your face and the other sliding down your waist. You both were literally making out in the locker room and anyone could walk in at any time, but he didn’t care. He pulls away after a minute, leaving you a little breathless. 

“Cherry Lip Gloss,” He says. “My favorite,”. 

Joe loved your Cherry Lip Gloss. You remembered the moment when you both had your first kiss, he immediately pulled away from you and you didn’t know why until he told you how amazing you tasted and he had to let you know. 

Flashback to a few years ago 

You and Joe just got back to your apartment after your bowling date downtown. He parked the car in the parking lot and you both were sitting inside, wishing that the night would never end. He turned over to face you, a million thoughts flooding his head. A few being that you looked absolutely enchanting and he really really liked you. You both had been on a few dates so far, each one better than the last, and tonight felt like a dream. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“Best date ever,” you smiled. You were feeling a little nervous after tonight's date, only because you realized that you really liked him and that it wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment feeling, and you didn’t know if he really felt the same way. Was he just looking for a girl to have on his side who would take care of him during the season and be good enough to hook up with? Or did he want a girl that he could have a genuine and meaningful relationship with?

He let out a deep breath and said, “You look really pretty by the way,”. 

A blush crept up your face, “Thank You,”. 

He kept staring into your eyes as you both remained silent. He moved closer to you but you couldn’t process it because you were caught up in your own thoughts. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You both haven’t kissed yet and every date felt like it would end with a kiss, but it never did. You were all in your head about how he felt about you and you didn’t know what to do, so you thought that it would be better to just go inside and avoid the awkward moment. 

“I should probably go,” you say while staring into his deep blue eyes, but before you can grab your stuff, Joe leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. You stay absolutely still for a few seconds before he suddenly pulls away. 

The blank look on his face fills your stomach with anxiety. Did your breath stink? Did he not enjoy it? Was it a mistake? You felt like hiding in a corner somewhere and never coming out. 

“Your lips,” he says. “Is that Cherry?”. 

You pause for a few seconds and say, “Yeah,”. 

“I love Cherry,” is all he says before pulling you back over to him, and completely attacking your lip with sloppy and eager kisses. You feel him grin into the kiss which immediately gets rid of your wandering thoughts. 

“You taste like love,” he says in between kisses. 

End of flashback 

He presses another kiss on your lips which snaps you back to the present. “You did great out there,” you told him. “They loved you,”.

“Yeah, it felt natural and easy,” he says as he leans back in for another kiss. 

Before you could ask him about his sudden change of heart about wanting to not talk about your relationship, a team member came over to tell you both that you’re allowed to leave and go over to the bar and that everyone would join you there in a little bit. Joe nods, wrappinh his arm around your waist, and leading you both out to the car. This newfound PDA was a little weird for you as you were walking through crowds of strangers and Joe seemed to not care. You decided not to push the subject just yet, it would be better to wait till you were alone so you could figure out what was going through his head. 

The after-party had a stereotypical College party vibe to it, and it being in a College Bar was definitely adding to the mix. Loud music and laughter, numerous cans of beer scattered across the room, and groups of people playing darts or beer pong. You felt like you were transported back to College and were drunk on nostalgia, and maybe something more. 

Joe was standing next to you, one hand firmly gripping your waist, and a beer can in the other, as you were extremely focused on the game of darts in front of you both.

“Andddd, Bullseye!” you yell as the dart hits the middle of the board. 

“Great Job, Y/N. I taught you well,” He says as you feel his hand migrate down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“That you did,” You say as you look back up at him. Here he goes again with the PDA, not that you were upset at it. You loved it, but you were also just as confused. You watched him take another sip of his beer before breaking off to go greet a few more people. You watched as he was conversing with a group of people before he looked over at you and motioned for you to come over. 

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he says as you join his side, his hand once again around your waist. You had no idea who he was introducing you to and were even more surprised that he was just tossing around the “girlfriend” tag so casually in front of people that he seems to have met for the first time. A few minutes later, you wrap up your conversation and decide to talk to Joe about what all this was about. 

“Hey Joe?” you say to get his attention. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” he responds.

“You wanna over there for a bit? I need to talk to you about something,” you say as you point over to the semi-secluded barstools in the back of the bar. He nods and you lead him over to the stools and sit down with your drinks. 

“Is everything alright?” he asks as he rubs your thigh. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you say as you place your hand on his. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he questions. 

“Its just, before the podcast you were getting nervous about them potentially asking you about us, and they did,”.

“Yeaahh,” he drags out as he nods his head.

“And when they did, you seemed to be just fine and were like an open book. Not to mention the out-of-the-blue PDA you’ve been showing all night,” you giggle. “I just wanna know, why the sudden change of heart? You know I don’t mind not being so open and public with our relationship, I hope I didn’t make you feel like you had to say or do something,”. 

Joe looked deeply into your eyes for a few seconds before responding. “These past few months have been pretty hard for me, and us. You know that best,”. You nod in return, now feeling a little queasy at the mention of the rough moments you had. 

“And it gave me a lot of time to think about life,” he adds as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

“I’m tired of acting like you’re not the reason why I can do most of this, aside from actually playing football. You always know exactly how to handle me when things get too chaotic, you know how to calm me down, you help me with literally everything, but most importantly, you put up with all the bullshit that being with me brings,”. 

“Joe,” you whisper. 

“Wait, I’m not finished. You’re the most important person in my life, and it’s time I make that known to everyone. I realized that I have no reason to be worried about what others will think, I love you more than anything and people need to know that. These past few months have shown me that I need you more than I need anything and the thought of you not being by my side freaks me the fuck out. Fuck their opinion. Fuck their comments. I love you and I chose you. Opening the door just a little will not hurt and if anyone has a problem with it, screw them,”. 

You felt like crying as he said all of this to you. Not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. You were relieved that his feelings towards you hadn’t changed, as odd as that sounds. There were a few negative thoughts about your relationship that piled up in the back of your mind over the past few months, but you never confronted them out of fear. The injury did a number on you both and you were scared that you’d lose this special thing you had to something that wasn’t in your control. 

“I love you so much, Joe. I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. 

“I love you more. And good, I think if you did I wouldn’t know how to function,” he says as he pulls you off the barstool and closer to him, slowly pressing his lips against yours. His lips tasted like your cherry lip gloss and beer, a familiar mix that you would often call ‘drunk in love’. He told you during your first kiss that the cherry lipgloss you had on tasted like love, and the beer was already intoxicating itself. A mix of both felt like you were well, drunk in love.

You were caught up in a heated moment in the dimly lit corner of the bar, not caring who saw you or who cared what you were doing. Your tongues tangled in your mouth as his hand navigated to your waist, holding you tightly. He lightly bit your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss. His hands continued to wander around your hips, slowly moving down to your ass. He gives it a few squeezes, pushing you deeper into him. You pulled away from his lips and said, “Do you wanna get out of here? I’m all for being a little more open, but I think we should finish this one away from public view,” you wink. 

He playfully shakes his head and lets out a laugh, “Deal,”. 

He grabs your hand tightly and leads you through the bar, giving it a few squeezes as you make your way outside. 

“We didn’t tell anyone that we were leaving,” you said as he led you down the street to the Car. 

“We’ll be fine,” he reassures you as he opens the car door for you.

He gets you situated before going around and getting inside the driver’s seat. You couldn’t wait to get home and finish what started in the bar. Once he got on the highway his hand navigated to your upper thigh, rubbing it up and down, softly caressing your exposed skin. You were already on edge from your heated makeout before and his hand being this close to where you needed him most was driving you insane. 

“Did I mention that you looked absolutely sexy tonight? This white dress is really making me feel things,” Joe says. 

“You’re such a tease,” you giggle. 

“Hm?” He questioned, acting oblivious. 

“You know what you’re doing, Burrow. Got me all flustered from earlier and now this,” you say as you pat his hand that’s on your thigh. 

“How did I get you flustered?”.

You sit up in your seat and say, “Well for starters, you looked like walking sex tonight, even if it’s a laid-back fit kinda day. Something about you in all black makes me insanely horny. Secondly, your talking about me caught me off guard but my stomach was fluttering the entire time. And then that makeout earlier at the arena and in the bar? Yeah, I’m this close to literally passing out,”. You fall back into your seat for dramatic effect as Joe playfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well then, maybe I should do something about it,” he says while looking over at you for a second.

“What are you proposing?”. 

“Just lay back and relax,” he says. So you do as he says, knowing exactly where this would lead, especially because it wasn’t the first time.

His hand moves to part your legs, and then slowly moves higher up your thigh until his fingers are teasing the edge of your panties. He moved them to the side as you let out a quiet whimper because of the newly exposed skin meeting the cool air of the car. His fingers parted your folds, finding your wetness and sliding easily inside you. The feeling was intense, the rhythm slow and gentle as he explored the depths of your desire. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his hand, needing more of his touch.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned as you felt pleasure overcome you. 

His fingers moved in and out of you, a familiar sensation building with each stroke. Heat and pure ecstasy were coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you reached the edge of pleasure. Joe’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bud and sending you fully over the edge.

“Ohhh,” you moaned as you threw your head back into the headrest. 

You spent a few minutes catching your breath and he slid his fingers out of your core and up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess on his hand. “Sweet,” was all he said, flashing you a smile. 

You laugh and say, “Can’t wait to get home, It’s your turn,”. 

He looked over at you, pure lust in his eyes as he gripped the wheel strongly and pushed on the gas pedal a little harder. Once you got home, Joe parked in the garage and quickly pulled you out of the car, eagerly leading you through the halls of your home, not even giving you a moment to take your shoes off. 

“Joe, slow down,” you giggle, slightly holding him back so he stops. 

He turns around and stares into your eyes for a few seconds, then eyeing you up and down, before tossing you over his shoulders and leading you up the stairs. “Boy, someone is excited,” you laugh. He leads you into your bedroom and gently tosses you down against the silk sheets of your bed before slipping your heels off. He then kneels in between your thighs and captures your lips in a messy kiss. 

You slide your hands into his messy curls and pull him closer, if that was even humanly possible, as he starts to fiddle with the straps of your dress. A few minutes later, both your clothes are now on the floor and you are back to making out, ignoring the fact that his boner was poking your thigh. You would never get enough of his lips, so soft and plump, very easy to get lost in. He pulls away and presses a few sloppy kisses around your neck before moving down your body. 

You stop him before he goes further, “Wait. I told you that it was your turn next,”. 

“You don’t have to, Y/N,” he smiles. 

“Mmmm, too bad,” you say as you move out from under him, allowing him to lie back against the headboard. Once he gets settled, you straddle his hips and press a few kisses around his face, then kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted body. You reach his hard-on and wrap your hand around it, giving it a few pumps as pre-cum was beading at the tip. 

You looked up at him, making intense eye contact, as you wrapped your soft lips around the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch in pleasure. You start to move your head back and forth, going deeper each time as sounds of pleasure escape Joe’s lips. 

“Shit, you feel so good,”. 

You continued to bob your head up and down his shaft until you felt him getting closer. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took him deeper and deeper, nearly choking up. His breathing became more erratic as you sucked him harder and faster. He slid his hands into your hair as started to buck his hips into your mouth, a sure sign he was about to cum. 

“Fuckk,” he moaned as you felt hot spurts of his cum filling your mouth, making sure to swallow every drop. You slowly release him from your mouth and look up at him with nothing but love and adoration. 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, wiping the spit and salvia off of your mouth.

“And you’re amazing,” he says as he pulls you back on top of him. You let out a soft laugh before kissing the tip of his perfectly sculpted nose. “You still up for a little more?” you ask him.

A huge grin appears on his face, “Always,” he whispers as he moves closer, once again kissing you passionately. You break away to put each of your legs around him and he grabs your waist while moving down to lie back against the bed all the way. You leaned down to press a final kiss on his lips before lining up his cock with your slick entrance. You slide down his length, soft moans leaving both your lips as the feeling of fullness feels like you’re coming home. 

You begin to move your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your hands rested on his chest and your fresh manicure left a few marks as you dug your fingers into his tan skin. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You feel so fucking good,”. His hands moved up and gripped your waist, helping you move back and forth to ease the soreness that you were definitely feeling by this point. 

“Yeah,” you moaned.

“Faster Baby,” he whispered. You nodded and picked up the pace, riding him faster and harder. You could feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing beneath you as you moved with a steady, relentless pace. Joe started to buck his hips into your slick lower half, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your breathy moans and sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Shit,” you moaned as he continued to pound into you. 

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered. You looked back down at him and smiled, he never missed a chance to praise you. He looked absolutely fucked out; his lips were red and swollen from the many kisses you shared, his hair askew, and a content grin on his face. The next few minutes passed by blissfully as you continued to ride him into oblivion. You leaned down, pressing your breasts against his chest, and started to bounce back onto his cock while moaning sweet nothings into his ear. His hands wrap around your back, pushing you closer and closer to his warm body. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned. 

You whimpered in response as heat was building in your belly. He picked up his pace and continued to pound into your core as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. The pleasure became too much for you, so you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your screams. 

“I’m cumming, Fuck,” he moaned. You felt his hands around your waist again, tightly gripping your plush skin, as you felt him shoot his load into your core. 

“Y/N,” he groaned.

You lifted your head out of his shoulder and pulled him in for a sloppy and needy kiss to stifle his moans. You were once again lost in his lips so you didn’t even realize it but he somehow managed to flip you over so now you were laying back against the bed. He moved one of your legs around his waist and ruthlessly thrusted into your core to help you find your pleasure. Your whole body shaking as he pushed you deeper and deeper into the bed which each thrust.

“Come on Baby,” he groaned. You were so fucked out and the alcohol from earlier was finally in full effect so you had zero thoughts in your head. You just felt your boyfriend pounding into your core and the pleasure building inside your sore body. 

“Mmph, Joe,” you whined as you felt the increasing wetness between you both. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you finally felt the rubber band in your belly snap, causing waves of intense and deep pleasure to wash over you.

“Fuckkk,” you whimpered. Joe gently collapsed on top of you, making sure he didn’t crush you with his weight. He pressed a few kisses on your neck as you remained in your high.

“Joeee, Fuck, you’re so good. It’s so good,” you moaned as your orgasm came over you. You spent a few minutes coming down from your intense high and held Joe close against your body. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you repeatedly how much he loved you like it was a sacred prayer. 

You felt him press a kiss on your cheek before slowly sliding out of you, causing you to shrudder at the loss of contact. He went into the bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up before getting in bed; your body was too sore and tired to get up to wash off the sweat and cum.

“Thank you,” you said as he turned off the lights and got into bed next to you. 

“No need to thank me, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“God damn, that was a workout,” you laughed as you turned over to face him. 

“My favorite workout,” he smiled as he pulled you into his side. You rest your head on his bare chest as he plays with your messy hair for a few moments. 

You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but love and warmth. “I love you, Joe,”.

He moved his hand down to your face, cupping the side and caressing the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. I’m glad I get to show the world how much you mean to me. It’s you and me, forever,” he says before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Always and forever,” you whisper against his lips. You moved back down to his chest and snuggled closer to him. You look back up for a second and see Joe falling asleep, a smile still present on his face. He was happy, you were happy. Everything was perfect. 

—The End—

[chugging-bleach]

"SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO." - the 4 times you almost met jason and the one time you did.

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✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅ ⋅ ✩ ⋅

summary. you regret not speaking to jason todd in high school. then, another masked vigilante by the name of red hood seems to make all your regrets dissolve.

tags. fluff, light angst, slight hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual happy ending

a/n. this idea came from a jason todd x <y/n> fic i am in the process of writing (if you would like to know when it comes out, follow or check out my ao3). i hope you enjoy reading this <3 feel free to request anything you would like to see me write.

the first time.

gotham high, located at the heart of crime alley, was for lack of a better word shitty. you hated studying, you never got along with anyone and prayed that the time went by fast. the only thing that made you keep going back to high school was staring at that handsome boy with bright blue eyes and ratty black hair who sat a seat ahead of you. how he made it to first place each year was a mystery to you since he was constantly skipping class.

what kept you going was looking forward to that one day he would attend class and then you could stare at the back of his head to make the time go by faster. one day you knew that you would want to freeze this moment and make it last forever, but for now, staring will do. not like jason would care and catch you looking.

then one day he completely stopped showing up. you thought he would come back. but then you graduated. without him ever returning. you hated yourself for never trying to talk to him. you should have spoken to him rather than staring holes into him. actually, staring at him must have been super creepy. were you the reason why he stopped coming to school? creeped out by the girl who bore holes into him, just staring and staring? regardless of the real reason, you know that you would always regret not talking to him. not being able to thank him for making school a little better.

the second time.

as was routine for gothamites, you get saved from some large attack from some big shot criminal at the hands of batman and robin. you were a bit upset at being saved since you really wouldn't mind dying at the hands of a rouge robber. you had nothing to look forward to. there wasn't enough money to go to university. bills piled up no matter how many jobs you worked.

you snap out of your thoughts when robin puts a shock blanket around you and instead of being grateful, you throw it on the floor. you remember that you have to get back to work otherwise you'll be behind on rent again.

"where are you going?" batman placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"work," you simply say.

"stay put for a while. we need to make sure you're alright."

"well, i won't be alright if i don't work and miss rent. again."

you just talked back to the batman. maybe he will kill you and then you might die quicker than working yourself to death.

"let me handle this one," and then robin is making you sit down next to him. you were trying to avoid robin knowing that you will project your regret on to him. the regret of never being able to talk to jason since both jason and robin have eerily similar features. work is just an excuse. you need to leave.

"please. i won't make rent. let me go."

"mad respect talking to him like that. but, you inhaled some poison gas. take the antidote. then you can go back."

"give it to the others here. i don't give a fuck."

you know you shouldn't be this angry. but you are this angry. at yourself. and robin has made that anger surface.

"how about i give you something to look forward to? then you'll stay for the antidote?"

"the person i looked forward to seeing disappeared before i could talk to him," you say before you can stop yourself. you feel ridiculous admitting it, that just staring at some random boy gave you hope. but it did. and now that boy wasn't there anymore.

"that dumbass didn't know how lucky he was."

you shook your head. "he truly is lucky. he was adopted by bruce wayne. i just... he made school less shitty even though he doesn't even know who i am and before i could thank him he was gone. it's stupid, i know, but i just wanted to say thank you to him. like, thank you, jason. that's it. and i'll never get to say it."

robin puts the shock blanket around you again. he was silent. "i'm sorry for saying all that. but now that i said it, i'll thank you instead of him." you turned and stared at robin's eye mask, imagining it was jason. it wasn't that difficult, considering they both had the same bright blue eyes and ratty black hair.

"thank you, jason for not getting creeped out by all my staring." you feel much lighter. maybe you just had to talk to someone. robin rises from your side.

"i'm sure that dumbass heard your thanks, though i'm sure he doesn't deserve any of it."

third time.

life at gotham, heart of wacky and dangerous criminals, was for lack of a better word still shitty. you never saved up nearly enough to go to university but managed to get a decent-ish job at three diners which paid nearly enough for being located in gotham.

you were wiping down table tops and listening to the news playing the death anniversary of jason todd, bruce wayne’s adopted son. it was tragic to die that young. and you were surprised the news didn't leave you as heartbroken as you had thought it would.

you continued wiping down the counters, when for the third time today, thugs burst in and demanded to be served. as per policy, you served anyone especially the dangerous sort. before you could get menus for them and think of how to explain to the next diner that yes, thugs broke in after her shift ended yet again, a person wearing a red helmet/mask comes inside, drags the thugs outside with a "not so fast," and that's that. your shift's over. instead of missing the next job, you will be arriving late, which won't be that difficult to explain.

you finish tidying up and leave.

the strange man with the red helmet has tied up the thugs and left them at the side of the pavement. he is ready to leave on his motorcycle. you make a move to leave, accustomed to strange costumed people taking care of thugs like this.

"for all that trouble, want a ride?" you think being kidnapped won't be too bad. not like you have anything to look forward to.

"sure."

just as quickly as he had tied those thugs up without fanfare, you were sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. you whispered the directions of the place adding, "didn't know this was part of the whole hero thing. giving people free lifts to places."

"you would be surprised how much money i burn on gas for these free lifts."

he drove way too fast. you tightened your hold on him, afraid you were gonna fly off. any conversation was impossible with the loud noise of the engine. but it felt freeing to go this recklessly fast.

"wonder who you need to see here."

oh no. you gave the wrong directions. you were not planning to do this. damn the news for reminding you. you promised last year was the last time you would do this.

before you can stop yourself, you're crying. you were heartbroken after all. "i don't know why i do this to myself each year. he never even knew me," you choke out. you had gotten off the bike at some point, expecting this person to leave.

"if it gives you peace to visit this person, you should. besides this punk is lucky to have you visit him."

ignoring the sense of deja vu you were getting, you shook your head. "jason was anything but lucky. he died so young. i never knew him. i wish i knew him better." he lended you his shoulder to cry on. you had more regrets than you had previously thought. "he did not deserve to die young."

your tears sat on top of his leather jacket and you moved to wipe them away with your napkin. instead, he stops you, wiping your tears away with the pads of his gloved fingers.

"he seriously is a lucky boy to have you visit and cry for him"

fourth time.

you were saving up money to move out of this shithole. nothing was tying you down to this place and there were new vigilantes and new villains rising everyday. none of the other cities were safe, but you had heard they offered better jobs and more affordable bills. less leaky ceilings. you never went to college so jobs still were a little difficult to get, but otherwise, you would be paid more as a server at anyother city, except gotham. if not working for wayne enterprises, jobs were a struggle in gotham. life was a struggle. you remarked upon how you made it this far.

then, someone broke through your window.

the first thought - for fuck's sake, who was gonna pay for it?

second - oh it's red hood, he will pay for it.

this is not the first time a vigilante crashed through your window. being a gothamite sucks.

you brushed the pieces of glass away from his leather jacket and surveyed him for damage. he did not seem hurt. only mildly annoyed. the red helmet wouldn't be enough to conceal his reaction from her.

"coffee as per usual? along with the window repairs and cleanup?"

you swear he is frowning under that helmet. not at you, but at the person who threw him. you don't wait for his answer, already preparing his coffee.

"help me up?"

"what? are your legs broken?"

"they are if you will carry me."

"red, combining you and the rest of your little clique this is the tenth time my window has been broken. sixth time by you, alone."

the person you met on jason todd's death anniversary was red hood. he was an anti-batman vigilante and you couldn't have given two shits. except, red made you give two shits. after that first day at the diner, he kept coming back to pick up food during your shifts. when the diner inevitably burned down, he came to the other diner you started working at. then it was crashing through your apartment window. then it was crashing with robin through your apartment window.

you were overjoyed when he came, but it was best you push him away before he got too close, and up and disappeared like jason had. looking forward to things like this was a curse.

"hope i make it to a seventh. seventh times the charm."

"charm for what?" you say, slamming the mug in front of him, with a little more force than you wanted to.

"for my charm to work on you." he winked and took a sip from the cup. his other hand rested on top of yours and your heart wrenched in your chest. you really wanted to know red hood better. you wanted him to keep crashing through your window instead of entering through the front door. but then he would die during patrol and you would have nothing more to look forward to. again. you carefully free your hand from his, ignoring his puzzled expression and the dejection you feel separating from him.

you have to stop this. "listen, you shouldn't see me anymore."

"why?

"i don't...don't need you to disappear too. jason disappearing was horrible and he wasn't safe with the most powerful billionaire in gotham. you break in through people's windows. what if next time you break something? like your spine or..."

you expect red hood to laugh at you. you were a minuscule, microscopic part of jason's life. he shouldn't be this huge a part of your life. if he were alive, you knew the regret wouldn't eat you up inside. but he wasn't alive. you couldn't hold that moment as a happy memory of a stupid thing you did in high school.

"all i'm hearing is, breaking your window is fine but not my bones. i guess that's doable."

you smack him, knowing that it wouldn't even hurt. "i'm serious. besides, once i have enough money, i will be moving out of gotham. don't come here. please." you were miles away from moving out. you knew red hood knew that.

you did this to save yourself the hurt and regret, but as you saw him leave from the front door, you knew you caused yourself more hurt and regret than last time. jason was far away from the beginning. you had chances to get to know red hood better. used to have chances.

jason was dead. red hood was right in front of your eyes and interested to keep seeing you. you had messed up.

he would never come back.

the last time.

instead of wallowing in your heartbreak, it was time to give back to the community you grew up in. moving out was an impossible dream you gave up on. instead, you got more involved in elder homes and joined their knitting circles.

it had been a month since red hood was gone. you couldn't believe it had been an entire year since you saw him, on jason's death anniversary of all days. yes, you couldn't help but regret that you made another mistake. red hood knew about you and wanted to know you better, to the point where he broke into your house.

like clockwork, you went to go see jason's grave, finding out that the grave wasn't there anymore. it wouldn't be there anymore at the request of the wayne family.

you cried outside the gates of the cemetery, knowing that this wasn't where he was laid to rest. jason's real body was in wayne manor, not here. this was for the public.

with red hood gone, you had nothing left to look forward to. you were a dumbass.

"need a ride?" you thought you were hallucinating. you looked up with teary eyes and confirmed it was the red hood. except, his helmet was off. you stared at him, dumbfounded. he had dishevelled black hair and bright, blue eyes. you sniffled, letting him drag you to your feet. you shook your head.

"jason's grave isn't here."

you were clutching the flowers in your hands. the red hood took them from you and bowed, pink flushing his cheeks.

"yes, that's 'cause i'm here. thanks for the flowers."

you gaped at him. "you're jason? you mean your name is jason too?"

guess it checks out. red hood knew about your strange connection to jason todd so he didn't tell you his real name. he chuckled, pulling you close, pressing a gentle kiss on each of your glistening cheeks. if you weren't shocked, you probably would be ecstatic about this development.

"it's time you learnt more about jason todd rather than staring and let me learn about you, <y/n>. i have been looking forward to learning more about you."

//bonus//

jason had no idea about before the diner incident. he remembered the from when he was robin, once they arrived at the cemetery. but, he didn’t remember anything from high school as he barely attended. then, his crush on was born.

the batsiblings were tired of seeing jason delay his confession, so they threw him through the window. once jason took tim with him. this totalled the count - three times tim as casualty, one time jason and tim, six times jason. all the costs were billed to bruce wayne as 'civilian casualties' code for ‘of course we broke through the window. it’s the batmove to pick up chicks.'

[leclerc-hs]

tachycardia pt.2 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.

“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 

“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 

“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 

She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”

You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”

Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”

“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.

“What does he look like?”

“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.

She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”

You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”

You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”

-

You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?

Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.

“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”

“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.

“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”

Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  

“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”

In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.

“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 

“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”

Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”

The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”

You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  

“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”

-

Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.

“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 

“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 

“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.

“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.

“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.

“Smell like what?” 

As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.

Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.

Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.

“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”

His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”

His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.

“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.

With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.

“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.

Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.

His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 

“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.

You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.

He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.

“See you there, mon lapin.”

[me-and-your-husband]

yours truly and forever || j. miller

summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter. 

an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”. 

warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)

A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”

She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly. 

“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”

Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat. 

You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”

Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”

“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”

She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home. 

“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.

You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”

You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead. 

“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”

She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here. 

When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.

As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”

You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile. 

Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.

“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.

You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.

Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes. 

“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”

The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”

“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone. 

“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.

“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”

You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”

You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.

“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics. 

“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”

“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.

“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.

“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach. 

“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.

Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.

“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.

“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response. 

It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”

You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.

On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water. 

Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.

“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.

You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you. 

“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name. 

“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.

“Five days.”

He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?” 

“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”

“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.

“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe. 

He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”

Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.

It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you. 

But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything. 

Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.

After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.

He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.

You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”

A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.

That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?

He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed. 

How was he supposed to start?

“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”

You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.

He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”

“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them. 

“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him. 

“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question. 

Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”

In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.

“You don’t know that.”

He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”

“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”

The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time. 

“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.

You didn’t rest much that night. 

Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case. 

When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated. 

The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table. 

He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.

“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat. 

The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him. 

You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to. 

“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane. 

“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.

You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.

You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”

You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze. 

“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.

You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”

“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”

The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.

“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you. 

You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door. 

“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.” 

You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”

Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.

At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.

He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.

The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation. 

As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.

He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.

“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.

Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?” 

When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”

“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery. 

Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer. 

“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you. 

You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that? 

“Your turn,” you said.

Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.

“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”

“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”

He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.

He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath. 

“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”

You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.

“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned. 

“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.

“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.

“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria. 

“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.

When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”

He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in. 

You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.

Tomorrow could wait.

You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs. 

There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table. 

Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:

“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”

You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:

My girl,

I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever. 

But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.

Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.

Until we meet again.

Yours truly and forever, 

Joel Miller

part 2

permanent taglist:

@idkwhattonamethisblogs​

@winters-fairy​​

​

[lizlovestofangirl]

hugs

ఌ︎ driver blurb featuring... oscar, daniel, charles, lando, ollie, arthur

ఌ︎ letter from liz... really loving the driver blurbs right now so request some more! if a driver isn't on my writing list you can always request them and i'll see if i can try and write for them <3

ఌ︎ warning... a little angst i guess but nothing serious and swearing

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

ᡣ𐭩 oscar piastri

oscar is a polite cat. this is a known fact. it is also a known fact that cats are selective about the people they trust. luckily for you, oscar has put all his trust in you. you knew he had a rough day. he had been gone before you woke up and was just now getting back after you had already eaten dinner. you could see the exhaustion dripping off of him, eye bags evident and shoulders hunched. he greeted you with a small smile and then wrapped his arms around you. you could feel him relax as you stood together, his arms around your shoulders and yours around his middle. he places the most gentle kiss on your temple and whispered how he had missed you. there's nothing that makes him happier than coming home to you.

ᡣ𐭩 daniel ricciardo

daniel is sunshine in human form and finds joy in making other people laugh and feel good. but sometimes, he can get tired just like everyone else. he had been quiet all day but said he was fine when you asked. by mid afternoon, it was apparent that something was really wrong. you walked from the kitchen to your shared room to find him on the bed answering emails, looking like he wanted to curl up and die. you gave him a look, your eyes screaming 'tell me what's wrong'. he gave you one right back that said, 'talk later, hold me now.' he shuffled so he was sitting at the edge of the bed and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his around your waist. he pressed his head into your chest as you ran your fingers through his curls and he realized in that moment that you were exactly what needed. then and now, forever and always.

ᡣ𐭩 charles leclerc

charles isn't the biggest hugger. he'd rather wrap an arm around you and place a kiss on your cheek, so when he does cave and hug you, it's even more special. you hadn't seen him in two weeks because of work. you guys had talked on the phone and texted constantly, but it wasn't the same. when he picked you up at the airport, he grabbed you and lifted you off the ground, spinning you like how they do in movies. "i've missed you, mon amour," he says as he puts you down. he pulls away and smiles at you, and before you can smile back he pulls you back in for another hug. "what's this about, charlie?" you ask. "i don't know, i just really missed you."

ᡣ𐭩 lando norris

it doesn't matter if you're happy or sad, lando just wants to be close to you. you were in the paddock grabbing food with oscar's girlfriend, lily, in between free practice one and two when he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder and neck. lily giggled, giving you knowing look that said 'he would do anything for you.' and it was true. he would. he would give you a million dollars or kisses if you asked, and give you a million hugs without you having to ask or think about it.

ᡣ𐭩 ollie bearman

ollie hugs are the best. staying true to his last name, he really does give a bear hug. he walked into hospitality after a great qualifying and his face lit up when he saw you. "hey bear," you said, your smile creeping into your words. he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. his thumb lightly tracing circles on your shoulder. he starts to rock you back and forth and you can feel his contentment as he rests his chin on the top of your head. his height makes hugs even better because he is able to envelop you like your own person blanket, or even better your own oversized teddy bear.

ᡣ𐭩 arthur leclerc

let's be honest, arthur is hot. like really hot. and he loves that you think he's attractive and sometimes get a little embarrassed about it. he had just finished working out and was walking through your shared bedroom to the bathroom so he could shower, but he felt your eyes on him. he looked up from his phone to find you staring, your lips slightly parted and your book completely forgotten on your lap. he smirked and said, "like what you see?" classic. but you couldn't help it! he looked so good. the arms. the waist. the layer of sweat that made him glisten. you looked away in embarrassment and he just laughed. that cocky motherfucker. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you out of bed and into a hug. you hid your face in his neck and be gave you a squeeze. he pulled back to see your blush had worsened, quickly deciding to kiss your forehead and pull you back in so you could hide again. curse his hotness.

[gaycentral]

Can I ask you to write about spencer being in a relationship with y/n and jj confess her feelings to him as they're being held hostage and they're on speaker the whole time and the whole team and spencer's girlfriend hears it and after spencer and jj are safe and days passes by spencer just be confused and distended but his girlfriend didn't say anything about it even though she wasn't feeling okay about it at all until they have an argument about it.

Miscommunication

Spencer Reid x Gen!Reader

Spencer’s been avoiding talking to you since JJ confessed her love for him. You have had enough.

Warnings/Content: Angst, angry reader, sad reader, sad Spencer, Spencer can’t talk about feelings so great. Ends with fluff.

You couldn’t sleep.

It had been two weeks since the hostage situation, since you feared for your boyfriend’s life and the life of JJ—one of your closest friends. But the fear had morphed into confusion, then the horrible crushing feeling of betrayal. JJ had confessed her love for your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. She was a married woman, it had been ten years since Spencer had a brief infatuation for her but she couldn’t let go.

And now you couldn’t sleep.

Things had been awkward. Spencer didn’t really want to talk about what happened, and a part of you understood that. But a much louder, much angrier part of you wanted to grab him and shake him and tell him to for fucks sake just talk to you.

You sighed as you sat up in bed, hands rubbing tiredly down your face. You looked over, Spencer was asleep curled on his side, facing away from you. It was seemingly an innocuous position, but it didn’t ease the anxiety that maybe Spencer didn’t love you anymore—or worse, never loved you at all. Maybe he’d been pretending, maybe you’d been his second choice when JJ slipped out of his grasp.

Slowly, you climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him. The anxiety was growing, crushing, your stomach twisting into double knots then triple knots as your mind spiralled.

Breathe. You needed to breathe.

You shuffled to the living room, bare feet gently padding across the hardwood floors as you approached the window overlooking the street, cracking it open to let air in and bracing your hands on the windowsill, letting your head hang low.

Your heart beat so hard it ached, and the tears you couldn’t fight blurred your vision into watercolours.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice nearly jumped you out of your skin. His sock-clad feet had allowed him to accidentally creep up on you. You didn’t know, but he’d woken up the moment he couldn’t feel you next to him, his hand blindly reaching out to find still-warm sheets but no you, and he immediately worried.

“Oh. Hey.” You force a smile as you turn around, hastily wiping your eyes and trying to make it look like you’re simply tired. But you’re both profilers, and Spencer isn’t an idiot, even without his glasses or contacts on in the late hours of the night he can see your red-rimmed eyes. His face falls.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately takes long strides towards you. One step, two, three, then he reaches you. He reaches out to you, but you step back.

“I can’t…I can’t be kept in the dark anymore, Spencer.” You don’t want to do this, you really don’t. You just want to go back to bed with Spencer in your arms or you in his but you know you can’t. You need to talk about this. You need an answer.

He seems to know what you’re talking about before you can even continue, as his gaze falls to the floor. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Can we just talk about this in the morning?” The exhaustion in his voice almost makes you crack, but you stand firm.

“No, Spencer. We can’t just talk about this in the morning.” The words come out sharper than intended, and you grimace, but you keep going. “You’ve been avoiding it—me, for two weeks!”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, but his hands clench into fists by his sides. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, the shame gnaws at his insides because he knows you’re right and it hasn’t been fair to you. He tried to ignore the way your crestfallen expression tugged at his heart whenever you tried to talk about it and he turned you away.

You finally ask the dreaded question, pulling it from beneath the lump in your throat and through your teeth. “Do you love her?”

Spencer’s eyes widen and his gaze snaps up to you in disbelief. He wanted to say no, he did, because he didn’t love JJ. Not like that, anyway. But seeing how angry you were, how tired you were, he found the air trapped in his lungs and all that escaped was a small sound that left him mentally kicking himself and calling himself the worlds biggest idiot.

And because of this, you thought you had your answer. He did. He loved JJ. Not you.

You force back the next wave of tears, your eyes and throat burning with the effort of keeping them unshed. You feel your heart shatter in your chest.

“I see.” You manage to say, trying to hide your heartbreak behind a cold mask. You were never good at that, not with him. With him you were an open book. “Well. I’ll get out of your way, then. I’ll take my stuff in the morning.”

You try to walk past him, but he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt or bruise, simply a silent plea for you to stop and listen. You want so badly to wrench out of his grip, to scream and cry and hate him for hurting you but you don’t. You can’t. You love him too much. So you stop, and you wait.

“I don’t love her.” Spencer finally says, his voice so earnest you have a hard time not believing him but a part of you still doubts. “She’s my friend, and I’ll always love her as a friend. But that’s it, I promise. I love you.”

His hand slides down from your wrist to your hand, fingers curling around yours as his thumb lightly rubs across your palm. His eyes are wide and wet, pleading with you to believe him, not to push him away.

You don’t trust yourself to talk without crying, so you take a shaky breath to try and steady yourself without speaking. It doesn’t work, you can feel the tears falling as you open your mouth.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Your voice comes out more broken than you wanted it to as your face crumples. “I was scared you didn’t love me anymore, and when you didn’t talk about it…I thought I’d been right.”

Spencer frowns before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, voice muffled against your skin. “I was scared. And an idiot. I was scared that no matter what I said, you wouldn’t believe me. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

You nod, and even though you’re still crying, the knot in your stomach begins to unwind. “I’m sorry, too.”

Spencer visibly deflates with relief and gently tugs you into his arms, face dropping to your shoulder as one of his hands cradles the back of your head. Your fingers dig into the soft fabric of his worn sleep shirt, feeling the muscles in his back begin to relax beneath your hands.

“I love you so much. Please don’t forget that, even when I’m being an idiot.” He kisses your shoulder to punctuate the statement, his arms gently squeezing your waist.

“I love you too.” Your arms wrap tighter around him, and you feel the smile growing on your lips as you finally feel at peace for the first time in two weeks.

The two of you stand there for quite some time, simply holding each other, before Spencer yawns into your shoulder.

“Can we go to bed now?” He mumbles, pulling back but not letting go of you, a sleepy smile on his face that makes your chest feel fuzzy she warm.

“Yeah, as long as you hold my hand.” You’re half-joking, and you see Spencer’s smile grow as he begins to tug you along to your shared bedroom.

Once you get there, he all but flops onto the bed, but he takes you with him, laughing at your surprised yelp as you land on top of him. Once you gather your bearings, you adjust slightly, resting your head on his chest and curling your arms around him like a koala. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear and the sound of sheets crinkling as he pulls the blankets up over the two of you.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when your eyes slip closed, the scratchy five o’clock shadow on his skin lightly brushing your forehead. “Always will.”

You try to say it back, but it comes out a borderline incomprehensible mumble, and you can feel him smile.

He knows what you wanted to say.

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ ITOSHI RIN ; — he promised he would never make you sad. even new promises can be born out of broken ones.

࿄ ! warnings — gn!reader except for the usage of ‘girl’, angst & lots of comfort. sfw! / note. my first time writing for rin so go easy on me :,} he makes my heart so warm. enjoy lovies <3

arguments with rin were akin to a battlefield. it hurts more than anything when he spits venom in your face, relaying words that should never be said by a man to his woman.

perhaps it’s the fact that you know him so deeply that reassures a hopeful part of you - a part of you that loves the dark, teal-hued haired man. it’s so tumultuous the way rin can go from zero to a hundred in seconds and suddenly, you’re walking on egg shells around him.

this time though, he knows for certain he’s fucked up. he can see it in the way fat tears run down the softness of your pink cheeks, and in the way that you relinquish all your weaponry, baring only a white flag and your soul:

“you’re right, rin. what do i know?”

it’s been a day and half and rin feels like hot garbage. he’s taking advantage of every half time to see if you’d message him first and his fingers always hover and twitch over the keyboard before the screen inevitably turns dark at his lack of activity and all he can see is his own tired and regretful face staring right back at him.

it was always you who'd reach out and, while he would seldom admit this to anyone, you were a constant in his life, the one person who understood him better than even himself. and now, he could feel you slipping out of his grasp, feeling a sense of despair creeping in.

he’s moving like he’s on auto pilot for the tedious remainder of his practice and he’s realised that you both haven’t gone this long without speaking in a long while and it sucks. why wouldn’t you understand that he’s a working man? he - you both knew that this was complicated. he was a professional footballer now - on the precipice of surpassing his older brother, and could you truly understand all the pressures and expectations that came with it?

rin doesn’t even know the answer to that anymore. though, what he does know is that he’s treated a good girl bad. and he’d be damned if he let his inferiority get in the way of loving you like you deserve.

“rin? you good, bro? you look like shit.” says isagi and rin scoffs before grabbing the black haired man by his shirt and pulling him close.

“what the fu-?!”

“tell coach i’ll be right back. something’s come up.”

rin speeds out the building before anyone can protest, taking nothing but his desire for you. he just hopes he gets there on time.

but it’s not like you’re doing anything particularly profound yourself. having called sick from university for a second day in the row, you’re eating leftover curry from the nights before... the nights when you and rin were cuddled up and you were spoon feeding him this exact meal.

you couldn’t stop the tears from dribbling down your face and right into your bowl. you hate that idiot. you hate that your heart beats for him and him only, even though he makes you feel like this on the bad days.

‘but there shouldn’t be any bad days,’ you think and the wrists of your sweater mop up any salty tears and snot from your face.

you can’t help but wonder if this was a sign from the universe - if you were destined to go your separate ways, to become nothing more than distant memories of a simpler time, a time in which rin would’ve ate glass if it meant he’d never see you cry again.

“you don’t have to do that, idiot,” you giggle, “though it would be a good punishment. are you manifesting that for yourself?”

rin shakes his head that’s kneading against your bare tummy, your t-shirt having been ridden up so he could press his cheek against the warm skin of your belly.

“just shut up… i would do a lot of things so that you’d never cry,” he grumbles cutely, ears red and you run your fingers through his hair as he lets out a puff of air.

“i’ll hold you to that, rinnie.”

three hard knocks against your front door throws you out of your reminiscing and you quickly wipe and pat at your face as hard as you can to brush away any remnants of a sadness-fuelled crying session before padding away to open at the door.

“hi - oh.”

you don’t know why you’re so surprised to see him but to see him like this? all sweated up, out of breath and pink in the face were all symptoms that were reserved for his football practice. the rin you knew would never sacrifice his prime training hours just to see you-

“just give me a minute. you - you don’t have to let me in. but i just wanted to say i love you, y/n. and you deserve better than - than, i don’t even want to say it,” rambles rin, who’s short of breath and he doesn’t know if it’s from running all the way over to see you or if it’s from trying not to get distracted by how devastatingly gorgeous you look, even when he’s the reason for your heartbreak. you’re wearing the sweater that he got you and your eyes are all doe-eyed and glassy and your plump lips are pursed together.

“but i’ll say it anyway because it needs to come from me. you deserve better than me. and i’ll still want you regardless, even though i don’t deserve you. and i’m sorry. i’d still eat glass even if you want me to but it still wouldn’t be enough. i’m sorry.”

rin exhales loudly and closes his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on your face but all it does it prevent the anticipation of seeing your arms fly over his waist.

“you’re such an idiot, rin,” you sob, face stuffed in his jersey and he all but wraps two strong arms around and rests his face into your hair, wanting - needing to be engulfed by everything that you are.

“i still hate you for making me sad,” you say, all muffled and sniffly and he breathes out a little harshly at that, wincing but he knows he deserves more than a few pointed words from you.

“i hate myself for making you sad,” he murmurs and you sniffle even more.

“you should definitely eat glass after this,” you mumble and rin presses his lips into the crown of your head and hums.

“as long as it’s made by you.”

“shut up… you should, sniff, go back to practice,” you whisper after pulling your face from the comfort of your boyfriend’s warm and toned body.

“you’re sure you don’t want me to stay?” rin frowns and for the first time in almost three days does he see a beautiful grin take up your face and he has to stop himself crumbling into the floor while you nod fervently.

“seriously, you should go. i don’t want to be the reason why bachira and isagi start going off on you,” you giggle and rin’s lips upturn slightly and he lets out a half chuckle.

“yeah, you’re right. but i won’t be too long so… wait for me?”

“…ok,” you bite your bottom lip and rin holds back the dire urge to kiss you but given the circumstances, he decides not to overstep, already elated that you still want him in spite of his behaviour.

he nods again and goes to leave the vestibule of your home when you pull his arm back.

the dark haired man turns to look at you in confusion, “what-” but he is merely interrupted by your hands that grab at his neck and the push of your lips onto his own.

the way rin kisses back in reciprocity is almost instantaneous and too wild for you to keep up as his hands splay themselves across the small of your back to your waist. your mouth tastes like a faint hue of katsu curry and even so, rin can’t help but slot his lips over yours. you eventually throw your arms around his neck to get impossibly closer to the man and even though he’s smells vaguely sweaty, you can’t help but be addicted to the scent anyway. especially when he holds you like he can’t get enough of you and it makes a fire rumble in the pits of your belly.

“i don’t hate you by the way,” you say when you break apart the kiss to whisper on his lips and he hums, all placant and appeased from being in your arms.

“i know,” and rin leans down to kiss at you one last time and you push him away playfully.

“you should definitely go now. they’re gonna be on you when you come back,” you twinkle and rin can’t help but mirror the soft expression that sits on your face.

“i’ll see you later, y/n,” he nods, taking your knuckles to his mouth, and the action makes you roll your eyes and he smirks this time around.

“okay, okay, i’m gone.”

when you finally get to shut the door behind you, you saunter off to the couch to see a notification light up your phone.

rinnie <3: on my way back. i love you.

a salty droplet hits your phone screen but this time, it’s not a cause of sadness; more so, a cause of adoration for the idiot. your idiot.

you: i love you too, rinnie :) have a good rest of your practice!

the striker has missed approximately 30 minutes of practice by the time he languidly strolls through to the pitch and multiple sharp eyes land on him - despite his attempt at blending in to make it seem like he never left.

to say that the guys on the team lambasted him would be an understatement. rin makes a mental promise to never induce sadness in you again, lest he face the wrath of his annoying teammates. though he doesn’t really care what those idiots think.

he’d run out of a million more games if it meant he needed to make things right with you.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[yooils]

everything i know about love. itoshi brothers (seperately!) x reader. bittersweet. fluff & angst. unrequited love.

☆彡– but really, how can he mourn for something he’s never had ?/ or, reasons why they’ll never love.

a/n: i’m so sorry for the way i delayed all my writings!! the rin thing took so long.

SAE ITOSHI can’t love. (at least, that’s what everyone believes, and what he tells himself.)

he doesn’t love. he criticises, observes, scorns it, but he doesn’t know how to love.

maybe that ability was lost a long time ago– along with his naive passion. maybe it was never there to begin with– a fitting explanation, it seems, for a heartless being like him.

sae itoshi doesn’t love. sae itoshi doesn’t allow himself to indulge in such luxuries. (after all, isn’t football supposed to be his only passion?)

but when he meets you, he feels like his world’s been thrown into turmoil.

you’re leagues above him, he thinks.

you’re more than he deserves; more than what he’s signed up for when he chose his future at the age of 13. there was no love included in the contract. there was only a sponsored one-way trip to spain.

(if anything, he could probably learn to love you.)

you’re kind. you’re so pretty to him that his heart aches when you smile at him. your accidental caresses to his skin makes it feel like it’s burning incessantly, permanently scarring where you touched him. your jokes are so bad sometimes a smile creeps out from his stoic face– but vanishes before you can point it out.

he likes you, but he’ll never love you.

not in this life.

(“you’ve probably noticed, but i do like you as more than a friend, sae.”

sae’s breath hitches. he wants, so desperately, to say yes.

he doesn’t.

your understanding smile lingers with him for days.)

it's no surprise when you start to draw away from him, really. but why does his heart ache when he thinks about a world of soccer– without you?

sae itoshi doesn't love, but now he'll be forever haunted by the whispers of what could have been.

RIN ITOSHI has a warped perception of love.

(after all, he's been hurt before. he knows of the horrors that the ephemeral feeling of love comes with. he knows how this story will end. but while sae itoshi cannot love, rin doesn't need it. he's given up on it, really; the very fabric of love having fallen into his category of 'lukewarm' even when he was a teenager who didn't know better.)

yet through the number of lenses you've seen him through over the years, you wonder if he truly is incapable of loving.

the flame in your heart grows bigger, despite the torrents of mental warnings in your head.

exhibit 1.

for someone who exhibits such emotionless behaviour, he really likes stupid dating sims. and he denies it vehemently, when asked.

“it’s not a matter of the romance. it’s so stupid that it takes my mind off things.” rin deadpans, raising an eyebrow at your sudden question.

exhibit 2.

cutely enough, he has an emo, teenager romance playlist.

(when you point it out, he disagrees that it’s angsty. "it's just for homework. i work better with songs i don't care about as white noise."

–the blatant lie that slips out of his mouth makes you question the very foundation your long standing friendship with rin. was he really that intent on lying about something so amusing?)

exhibit 3.

you've been rin's self proclaimed best friend for as long as you can remember. maybe preschool, or even before.

you know how hard it was for him to keep up with his prodigy brother. you know the lengths he's gone through to earn rank #1 on japan's top 300 footballers. you know rin itoshi, the boy behind the stoic and calculated facade. the boy who says he doesn’t cry, but sometimes finds himself tearing up over sentimental pet movies.

(it’s better this way, you know. it’s better to conceal the fact that you’ve been totally in love with him for almost a decade, from you were both angsty pre-teenagers in middle school until now, in your early twenties, when he’s becoming a rapidly-growing football celebrity and you’re still right where he left you, five years ago.)

there’s no happy ending to this story. there was never meant to be one.

exhibit 4. (the disaster)

it was a mistake.

okay, maybe it was less of a mistake, and more of an impulse decision, considering how little he regretted it the morning after.

he should regret it, shouldn’t he? it’s normal to not regret sleeping with the only person he trusts with his life, right? even if his feelings towards you were only platonic..?

he’s been enchanted by the illusions of love underneath the sheets. now he doesn’t know what to do– when he’s so wrapped up in thoughts of you, you, only you.

does he want to like you? no, heavens, no.

(does he like you, realistically, in an ideal world? yes. so much– maybe he would even sacrifice his career for you in another life.)

love is a curse. love ends everything. love is what fuels his hatred.

does he love you?

even if he does, it’ll be astronomically less than how much you love him, wouldn’t it? does it matter? when he’ll never be enough– when you deserve more?

his rejection– blunt, cold, hits you like a truck.

of course it does.

summary

a part of you will always like rin, you think.

rin is childish– rin, at his twenties– still doesn’t know the true extent of how much you actually like him. you don’t think you’ll ever tell him, either.

maybe you should move on.

how can you, when you’ve been in love with the same person for a decade–? how can you, when he was- is everything to you?

(how could he move on as well– when he’s completely ruined the only person who ever liked him genuinely– without any sort of obligation to do so? how could he, when he was the only one who could be blamed?)

maybe, in ten years, he’ll regret it.

11.22.2023

[peachhcs]

losing the championships

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's self-doubt creeps in after losing the finals making him snap at the one person who's always there for him, almost making her turn her back on him.

2.6k words

warnings: a bit of angst, arguing, crying, this is a sad post in general

ik im feeding y’all rn but i feel weird putting this out in two days and not now haha, but guys you know i had to do it. i had to get the angst out. i think this is like the first angsty post in the series?? i hate when there is angst, but i love writing it lmao. i'm not sure how accurate some of this is, but i hope the trio stays on for another season!! i'd actually be devestated if they don't. anyways keep requesting!! <3

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it didn’t feel real. nothing felt real watching her best friends crumple to the ice in utter defeat and heartbreak just two days after winning the semifinals. samy stood up in the stands nearly motionless while everything around her fell silent. she didn’t think those moments were actually real whenever they played in movies, but here she was hardly focusing on anything but her best friends in tears. 

her eyes couldn’t leave ryan on his knees with his face in the ice. she just wanted to wrap all of them into her arms so none of them would feel this type of pain anymore. 

the stupid jumbotron panned to everyone’s reactions, basically putting the boys on full blast when they most definitely didn’t want anyone to see them crying like they were. samy’s heart only broke further when she finally looked down at her boyfriend trying to hold himself together while comforting a sobbing ryan and teary gabe. 

her own eyes grew teary seeing those three so destroyed not knowing what was next for any of them. that was probably the scariest part. 

when will searched for samy’s gaze the waterworks broke like a dam for the couple. the youngest hughes was completely crying and will’s shame settled into his skin that he lost the game without even scoring a single point. 

their coach urged the boys down the tunnel before the cameras could get any more shots of them. samy tried pulling herself together, but her hiccuping cries didn’t stop slipping out no matter how hard she tried holding them in. 

boston’s side of the lobby was nearly silent which almost mirrored michigan’s team two days ago. suddenly, seeing those happy memories wasn’t as easy anymore. samy’s mind raced wondering if this game really was the last for her favorite trio or if they’d stay on one more season with boston. 

thirty minutes passed before the bc boys slowly trickled out of the locker room. their bloodshot eyes and tear stained faces were enough to send more tears into samy’s own eyes. her lip quivered waiting for her boyfriend to appear, but he didn’t come out after his usual spot behind ryan and gabe. the two boys found samy’s gaze, frowning even deeper. 

“hey, i’m so sorry. i-i have no words,” samy brought them into big hugs hoping to ease a bit of their ache. 

“what a fucking night,” ryan muttered bitterly. 

“you guys played well. those refs were idiots making calls,” the brunette shook her head. 

“will’s still in there. he’s..he’s not taking this one too well. you can go in if you want, but he may explode. I i don’t want you to think he’s mad at you, he’ll just find something to take his anger out on,” gabe explained briefly. samy’s eyes slid towards the locker room doorway where her boyfriend hid. 

“don’t worry, i know how he gets. I’ll see if i can talk to him,” she couldn’t be scared of will. 

he was her best friend and boyfriend. he’d never intentionally hurt her and if he said things, she knew he was just angry with himself, not her. the girl shuffled her way towards the locker room trying to put on a brave face for will’s sake. 

she knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open. her eyes scanned the practically empty room until she found her boyfriend slumped in his stall at the end of the benches. her hands trembled as she slid further in and leaned against the door. 

“will?” 

his eyes snapped towards hers. he looked like a mess and that only unleashed more waterworks seeing him in this state. it wasn’t one samy saw him a lot in, so when she did, it hurt extra hard. 

“if you’re here to try and make me feel better, i don’t wanna hear it,” the boy mumbled bitterly which quickly caught samy off guard. 

she wasn’t expecting that from him so immediately. 

“i’m not. just here to be with you,” the girl said, trying to hide the shake in her voice. 

“well, i’m not really in the mood to be around anyone right now. just go. i’ll be out in a few minutes,” the bitterness in his voice definitely stung, but samy tried shaking him off knowing he was just upset. 

“will..” she inched forward, wanting to reach out to him. he looked as if anyone touched him he’d just break into a million pieces. 

“i said go. i don’t need your fucking sympathy. i feel feel like shit,” the blonde snapped this time making samy instantly draw back. 

“i know you’re upset, i get it. this loss fucking sucks. i’m just trying—” 

“you don’t fucking get it, samy! i just lost the championship game 2-0. we scored zero points. you know how fucking embarrassing that is? i’ve been trying to prove myself all season about how good i can be and then i lose the championship game. you’ll never fucking get it!” there it was. 

will’s tone rose with anger and hurt all mixed into one. samy swallowed the nerves climbing higher in her stomach as she tried remembering none of this was really directed at her. she was just the person will was getting his anger out on. 

“i-i do get it, will. remember my championship game in december? we choked. i-i get it, i do. it sucks and i’m so sorry it ended this way. i wish it didn’t—”

“stop saying you get it. it’s not the fucking same. you’ve never had to work for anything in your life because of your family!” 

the blonde’s harsh words finally hit a nerve. samy’s face twisted and she didn’t know anymore if he really didn’t mean it or not, but through the anger, will realized what he said. 

“samy..i didn’t—”

“fuck you, will. you of all people should know how hard i’ve worked to be where i am right now. i know you’re upset about everything right now, but you don’t need to bring me down to make yourself feel better. don’t bother waiting up. i’m leaving with ryan and gabe,” samy stormed out of the locker room before will could say anything more.

the tears streamed down her face as soon as she was in the lobby again. ryan and gabe instantly noticed her distraught expression, immediately going to her. 

“shit, what happened?” ryan muttered. 

“can we just go? i can’t deal with him right now,” samy choked out. the two exchanged a worried glance, but obliged. 

the whole ride back to the hotel was nothing but silence as everyone reeled from the disappointing night. 

—

gabe let samy camp out in his hotel room for the night. he didn’t dare ask her what happened in the locker room knowing she’d tell him if she wanted to; however, the dark-haired boy wanted to go knock some sense into will knowing he most definitely snapped too hard at samy which made her want to avoid him. 

it was almost two in the morning when there was a small knock. still awake, the two exchanged wary glances, so gabe got the door. 

he pulled it open to reveal a very weary, teary-eyed, sad, and frustrated will. for a moment, gabe almost let him in, but he stopped himself because he didn’t want the boy blowing up at samy again. the girl sat nervously on the bed just out of sight of the door listening in on them.

“is she here?” will rasped out, voice dry from the amount he cried after samy left the locker room and getting back to the hotel. 

“i’m not sure i wanna answer that,” gabe stood his ground. 

“come on, perreault. leno said he didn’t have her,” will tried again. 

hearing how wrecked he sounded broke samy’s heart all over again. gabe gazed back at her, a look in his eyes asking her if she really wanted to see him. 

even though he insulted her, something in samy was still trying to justify it for him being upset and angry. she really wanted to believe he didn’t mean it. with that, the girl crawled off the bed and shuffled her way behind gabe’s 6’1 figure. 

“we can talk in your room,” samy mumbled. 

“o-okay,” the shake in her boyfriend’s voice made samy want to lunge herself at him and make all the pain go away, but she had to stand up for herself still. 

“you’re sure?” gabe wondered before letting her go. 

“i’m sure. i’ll see you tomorrow,” she rubbed his arm and stepped around him. 

her and will walked three doors down where his hotel room was. it was basically hers too since most of her stuff was scattered across the room over the past few days they’ve been there. 

will shut the door behind them. the brunette looked at him expectantly knowing she said everything she could. a beat of silence passed before the tears quickly filled the blonde’s eyes and he started completely sobbing in front of her. he crumpled against the door, choking sobs falling from his lips as he body sunk into the ground. 

for a second, samy just stared at him until her instincts kicked in and she went to him without hesitation this time. 

“oh will,” she curled into his side, stroking his hair as his body fell into hers. 

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it. i don’t know why i said it. i was upset and i know that’s not an excuse at all,” the boy rambled into her shoulder. 

“i know this loss hurts, but taking your anger out on people with harsh words isn’t gonna make it better,” samy said.

“i know, i know. i-i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you. that’s not fair to you at all.” 

“i was just trying to comfort you like i always do after losses,” the girl hated seeing her boyfriend so upset like this. his tears dripped everywhere on her even after samy tried wiping them away with her thumb. 

“i know. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. i just.. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” will’s voice grew softer at his small admission. 

“what do you mean like that?” i’ve seen you lose games before.”

“i don’t know if this is how you felt after your soccer game, but i felt so pathetic for losing a championship game where we didn’t even score. my pride was hurt and i worried you’d think i wasn’t good enough anymore because i lost like that,” his words continued breaking samy’s heart. 

she grabbed ahold of his face so he was looking at her, “i’d never think any less of you because you lost. it happens. you’re not pathetic for losing and i promise it doesn’t make me look at you any differently.” 

“i guess i’m just always scared you’ll get sick of me and realize i’m not actually worth it. that and a hundred other emotions were just going through me and it came out really wrong,” will frowned. 

a small sigh escaped the girl’s lips hearing the boy she’s known all her life doubt himself so much. “you’re always worth it, will. nothing’s ever gonna change that for me, okay? i’m always gonna be in love with you and wanna be around you win or lose, whatever's happening in your career. you’re stuck with me,” a small laugh escaped their lips at the last part. 

“i know that. i just get really doubtful when i get down on myself and hard losses like that happen.” 

“i get it, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you played your best tonight, those refs were making shit calls and unfortunately, denver just figured us out.” 

a small nod came from will. he pushed his forehead onto samy’s just trying to ease all the thoughts running through his mind while focusing on the way she ran her fingers gently through his hair and around his curls. some of his roots were rough and red from the way he pulled harshly on them earlier, so her gentle motions slowly eased the ache. 

“i’m scared that i don’t know what’s gonna happen next with any of us,” will spoke again after a small silence. 

he lifted his head again to meet his girlfriend’s gaze before leaning it against the door. 

“are you gonna sign on?” the idea played in samy’s mind as well after tonight’s game. 

the decision was entirely up to the coaches of each of the guy’s respective teams, but considering how well all of them played and improved in one season, they may want them sooner rather than later. 

“i don’t know. it’s up to whether the sharks want me now or later,” will answered. 

“have you talked to ryan or gabe? what they may do?” 

“washington’s pushing closer to the playoffs. they may want ryan on for it. i dunno. gabe’s most likely gonna stay. i don’t think the rangers are quite ready for him yet. the ideal situation is we all stay one one more season with boston,” will explained a bit, his fingers drawing mindles shapes into samy’s leg. 

“what do the sharks say about you?” the girl wondered with a raised eyebrow. 

“you know what they say about me. they want me now. they wanna wait another year. it’s..sort of up to me i guess,” will shrugged a bit, avoiding eye contact. 

“would you sign on now?” she rephrased her question from earlier. 

“if i sign on now, my entire life gets flipped around in a week and i have to move to california, but then i’d possibly get to play in the playoffs. if i wait, i get to stay with boston and everyone for another year and more importantly, see you more frequently than if i was in california,” samy rolled her eyes at the last part—he was always so down bad for her. 

“don’t make the decision based on me, will. you’ll see me still.” 

“i know, but i think i do subconsciously anyway. you’re just my life now,” his words sent a deep blush across the girl’s cheeks. 

“i’m flattered,” she rubbed the side of his cheek making him lean into her touch. 

“you’re everything to me, samy. i’m really, really in love with you and i can’t imagine my life without you in it,” will smiled softly. 

the girl flushed, but returned his smile. hearing those kinds of things come out of his mouth was still something the brunette was getting used to even after 9 months of being together. 

“you’re everything to me too, will. i love you a lot.” 

the boy leaned forward to place a gentle, yet loving kiss on her lips. they melted into one another, small sighs escaping their mouths at the contact. her hands tugged at his curls while his own curved around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer like he needed her as close as possible or else he couldn’t function. 

part of it was true. without samy, will was lost like a fish in the ocean. she was a part of him and he was a part of her. they were intertwined and always would be. her soft lips soothed every single thought and self-doubt will had because as long as his favorite girl believed in him, that was all that mattered. 

“i know i said this already, but thank you for being here. it means a lot to me,” will said when they pulled apart. 

“i’d never miss this. i’ll always skip classes for you,” she grinned. 

the boy beamed, pulling her back in for another kiss. 

the two didn’t get into bed until nearly 3:30 in the morning. samy curled into will’s side, his arm tightly around her as she laid on his chest. the tension in the air completely dissipated and the cries died down. things felt okay again. 

they’d sleep tangled in one another all night knowing the next morning samy had to catch her plane back to michigan and will would be left with one big decision that would decide what plane he had to catch. 

[toxicanonymity]

The Contractor. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 6 of 6)

4k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader / pt 1 / master list

STORY MASTER LIST

Warnings/Notes: I8+ some angst, dry (wet?) humping, unsafe PIV SEX (!), legal age gap. Acronyms - RICO is about organized crime. barely edited.

It’s so close.  It’s finally here. His hand slides under your shirt, runs over your back then pulls you closer. He feels so good, it’s like a dream.  But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in.  You want the truth.  You pry your lips away from his, and right away, he latches onto your neck.  “What did my Dad want?” you ask. Between kisses, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

Joel shows you his phone and your dad is at the gate.  He thinks in silence for a moment. 

“Well, we’re not doing anything,” you offer, but your heart is pounding.  “Don’t let him in.”

“I’ve gotta let him in.  What’s he gonna think if I don’t?”

He rubs his beard and opens his home automation app.  “You’re in the pool house,” he decides.  He turns on a dim light in the pool house.  

“What does he want?” you ask.  

“Hell if I know.  Go through the basement.” 

“No way.” 

“Come on, Trouble.” 

“I’m not going through the tunnel alone.” 

He seems endeared by your fear.  “Do it for us,”  he says with a wink that makes your heart jump.  Then he gets up to take the drinks to the sink. 

“Wait,” you say. 

He freezes. 

“What were you gonna say? Now that I know . . . ?”

“Now that you know, I don’t have to worry about you finding out later and being mad.”

You kind of doubt that’s what he was going to say.  “I’m mad anyway,” you say. 

“Figured.  It’s okay.”

A car door opens and closes.  

“Go,” he whispers. “I’ll come get you when he’s gone.” 

You make it to the pantry stairs just in time.  

-

When your dad comes in, Joel says, “Welcome back.” 

Your dad asks, “Where’s my girl?”  

“Sleepin’ it off in the pool house, I reckon.  Didn’t want her to drive.” 

There’s a long pause and your heart races. 

Your dad says, “Good, good. . .thanks.” 

Damn, Joel is smooth.  He asks your dad, “Somethin’ you didn’t wanna call about?”

“Yeah. . .” 

You’re tempted to stay and hear more, but you’re also afraid of what you might hear.  You creep down the stairs quietly.  You think about going to the theater instead and waiting in one of those recliners.  It’s silly, but you really don’t want to go underground to the pool house.  The tunnel is climate controlled and has automatic lights, but it’s still spooky without windows.  

-

You’re standing near the tunnel entrance trying to work up your nerve when you hear raised voices, and now you can’t resist.  You quietly make your way back toward the stairs to listen.  If no one is going to tell you what’s going on, this is your chance to find out.  It occurs to you there’s no reason for you to go all the way to the pool house except that Joel doesn't want you to hear this.  Otherwise, you could have hidden anywhere and your dad would be none the wiser. 

A cabinet slams shut and Joel demands,  “How many aren’t you tellin’ me about?”

“Not tellin’ you? I just found out!  I’m not in charge, you know that.”  Glasses clink with ice. 

“North of the fuckin’ border again. God damnit,” Joel says. He’s even more heated than he was in the car the other day. 

Your dad asks, “What do I have to do to get you all in on this? Let’s get it done and be done with it.”

“You know what I want.  I want out.”

“You’ll be out.” 

“I want it in writing.” 

Your dad scoffs.  “You want a paper trail now? When the whole point was to keep your charges off paper?” 

“Not the charges, damnit.”

“Then what do you want in writing? You made some bad guys go away in exchange for evidence going away, now we’re square?” 

“It was supposed to be a six month contract.  Here we are, how many renewals later? And I’m still consulting.”  You can picture the air quotes with the way he says it.  

“Still better than 20 years for RICO,” your dad says. 

“Never woulda gotten the max. . . You know what? At least the wiseguys have a code.”

Your dad sharpens his tone.  “Ever wonder what happened to that evidence?”

“FUCK”  A glass shatters. “I’m never gettin’ out. Just say it.”

“This is the last-” 

“Don’t string me along with this one last job bullshit, then the job’s a whole fuckin’ cartel.  Call it what it is.  I’m an asset.  Not a contractor if I don’t got a fuckin’ choice.”

“You’re gonna be out.” 

“You won’t even give me your word.”

“Joel, you have my word.”

“Alright,”  Joel calms down a little.  “And what about you?  You ever think about your daughter in all this? You want her on tiktok seein’ your head roll off one day ‘cause you couldn’t take the loss and retire?”  

“Don’t talk about my daughter.”

There’s a moment of silence, then your dad continues. 

“We’re on the same team, buddy.  I want this over as bad as you do.  C’mon, let’s look at the intel.” 

You’re sick to your stomach.  Whatever this is sounds like it’s about your dad’s ego. What’s new. You shrink back to the tunnel and jog through it so it’s over fast.  

-

You’re laying on the couch in the pool house, and you don’t even want to think about what you just heard.  So you’re replaying the earlier conversation in your head.  The one about your stepmother and  . . . gross.  Something doesn’t sit right about it.  You’re trying to figure out why Joel would have felt guilty for you blackmailing him into sex. 

It hits you that the only reason he’d feel guilty is if it were his doing. . . If he realized you thought you had leverage and saw an opportunity.  Deprive you, make you want it that bad, see if you’d try to twist his arm into it.  And once you got there, game over?  Was he just getting off on having the power all along? Then you ask yourself the real question.  If that’s the case . . . do you wish none of it ever happened?  It’s an easy no.  

So you put that to rest and can’t help but think about what you overheard between Joel and your dad. You want to know how this all happened, but from the way Joel was talking about heads rolling off,  you’re most worried about what he and your dad are up to right now.  You want to hear it from Joel.  You want to know what his real job is.  The truth might be the only thing you want more than to fuck him.  And if he won’t tell you the truth, maybe he doesn’t deserve the latter. 

You’re exhausted from being in the sun all day.  There’s a big, heavy blanket – silky, not exactly cozy.  It’s like a rich guy blanket, probably put there by an interior decorator.  You curl up on the oversized couch and pull it over you.  There’s a bedroom, but you don’t expect this to take as long as it does, so you don’t get in bed.  You stay on the couch.  It feels like Joel is taking forever, but you’re too tired to even look at the time. You take off your shorts and bra, swaddle yourself in the blanket, and drift off. 

-

You don’t hear Joel come in or take off his pants or put his stuff on the table.  You feel cold for a moment when he lifts the blanket, but then he gets under it with you and takes you into his arms, and he’s warm.   

You stir, and Joel whispers, “You wanna get in bed?”  

You shake your head no.  

“It’s right there . . .”

“No,” you manage weakly.  You’re not remembering any of the drama at the moment, just enjoying being in his arms and too sleepy to move.  

“Ok,” he whispers, and kisses you on the head.  You fall back asleep with your head in the crook of his neck. 

. . . 

In the middle of the night, you wake up in his arms with one of his legs hooked over both of yours and his boxers pressed against your panties, which are soaked with arousal, you can feel it.  He’s only somewhat hard, but it’s enough to make you need it, bad.  He smells freshly showered but you can still catch a hint of his sweat, which makes you need it worse.  Your nose brushes his beard as you look up at his face. 

He blinks awake with sleepy eyes.  He presses his lips into yours for a long kiss that starts light, affectionate, closed-mouth, then becomes desperate, invasive. You accept his tongue greedily. He hardens right against your crotch.  His hips roll into yours, and before long, he’s rock hard, and you softly moan “mmm” into his mouth.  

He whispers, “Are you on-” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off.  Then he covers your mouth with his lips again.  Yeah, you’re on birth control, and the question makes you throb as he kisses you.  It’s so close.  It’s finally here. It’s grinding into you right now.  His hand slides under your shirt and runs over your bare back, pulling you closer against him, and he moans softly.  He feels so good, it’s like a dream.  

But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in.  You really, really want the truth.  It dawns on you this might be your best shot at getting it. 

You pry your lips away from his, and right away he latches onto your neck.  

“What did my Dad want?” you ask him. 

Between kisses on your neck, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”  

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demand.  

He rolls his arousal into your clit and you bite your lip to suppress a moan while you wait for his answer. 

 “Not now, sugar. . .”

He lifts your shirt swiftly but smoothly and palms a breast, then is hard-on drags down your thigh and you feel a damp spot on his boxers. He takes your nipple into his mouth while he pulls your shirt off, and you help him, despite your reservations.  You need the truth, but you’re aching.  Your body needs to be filled by his. 

“Not now. . . so, when?” you ask. 

“When I’m back,” he sighs.  

“Back from what?”

He doesn’t answer.  He lightly drags his lips over the top curve of your breast, over your shoulder, up your throat, your jaw, to your ear.  

-

His boxers find your drenched panties again and press against you in just the right place.   He’s so stiff, it takes your breath away, and a soft moan falls out of your mouth.  He whispers, “This is all that matters,” and you want him to be right so bad.  He nibbles then sucks your neck right under your ear. He grinds his rock-hard member into you in a slow rhythm at just the right angle.

“This,” he says, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back.  He wraps his arms around you, grinding into you rhythmically.  He kisses you again, and his tongue erases whatever words were on yours.  Blood rushes to your lips with the gentle suction of his own. With his face still on yours, he slowly, carefully takes his boxers off under the blanket. 

You slide your hand down his abdomen and your breath hitches as you graze the light padding of his lower stomach.  You find that small, circular scar and gently caress it.  He flinches, then moves your hand to his cock.  It sends a  bolt of need to your aching clit, but you still have to ask. 

“What’s it from?”

“C’mere,” he says, and latches onto your mouth again as he thrusts into your hand.  

You want his lips on yours forever.  You want nothing more than to just give in and fuck him.  You push yourself up with your arm and he rolls onto his back.  You shrug off the blanket.  He watches you in a trance as you straddle him with his cock still in  your hand.  You thumb his scar again and he says, “you know I served.”  Right.  Of course.  

His stomach rises and falls, and his head tilts slightly as he watches you nestle his naked cock at your drenched, silky underwear, right against your clit.  You roll your hips into him and moan at the friction. 

“Let’s lose these, sugar,” he pants. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and you lift each leg to slowly slip out of them.  

-

You settle back in, then close your eyes, tilt your hips, and use him to pleasure yourself.  You drag along his cock, from your clit to your dripping entrance and back, making his manhood shine with you, and he groans.  Then you lay your hips onto his again and his hips rock against you, with his unfathomably hard cock gliding firmly against your slick.  

He moans and breathes heavily.  “I gotta be inside you, sugar,“ he says as he grinds into you rhythmically.  

“I’ve gotta know the truth,” you reply, but it physically pains you.  

He groans.  “Fuck,” he pants. “What do you wanna know?”

“What you’re up to,” you say as you use your hips to massage yourself with his stiff manhood.  

He takes a deep breath.  “It’s complicated,” he says, and you inwardly acknowledge he’s probably right.  You stop moving and start to back yourself down his thighs.  You bend at the hip and hover over his cock. 

“Are you still in construction?” You stroke him slowly.  

“Still own the business.”  He adjusts his hips under you.  

“But that’s not all you do.”  You bring it almost to your mouth and take a deep whiff of his musk which makes you twitch with need. 

“No,” he quietly admits. 

You think about how to simplify this and get it over with.  You throw caution to the wind and ask,  “Do you kill people?” You thumb the precum beading at his tip.  No immediate answer.  Then, you take his salty tip into your mouth for just a kiss and he groans.  You take it out.

He sighs.  “You really wanna know?” He thrusts into your hand.

You give it another kiss. “Yeah.” 

You slowly crawl back up his body and lay half on him and he rolls toward you so you’re on your side like before.  You hook your top leg over him.  You search his eyes for an answer, but he looks down at your bodies instead.  His large hand engulfs your ass cheek, caresses it with his palm, then gives it a firm squeeze and pulls you hard against him, and your wet pussy meets his stiff cock again.  

“What do you think?” He asks quietly, then buries his nose in your neck and whispers, “Cause you’re prolly right.”  Your heart skips a beat.  You wanted more, but at the same time, it feels like he just told you everything he has to tell - or that’s what you’re trying to believe, for your body’s sake.  You don’t feel anything about what he just said. All you feel is him, and that’s all you want.  

-

He groans as he grinds into you, and his neck vein bulges. He rolls his arousal harder against your slick seam and kisses your neck. “Come on, sugar,” he says.  

You open your mouth but don’t have any words, you can only breathe.  He ruts against you again and you close your eyes with a moan.  You’re throbbing, physically aching, swollen with need, dying to have him.  

“Gotta be inside you now baby,” Joel repeats, smooth and low.  He thrusts hard against your clit, slow, but so hard.  His mouth devours yours, and your nipples harden against his broad chest.  When his stiff member drags back down your clit, he hesitates at your entrance, then puts his hand on your ass, and the tip of his cock is caught by a tilt of your hips.  Tension swells and tightens deep within you. 

He begins to slowly push the firm head of his cock into your tight, wet hole and reads your face.   You have to remind yourself to breathe. Your brow furrows.  You bite your lip and inhale through your nose.  You both adjust your hips so the angle is just right.  He pushes a little more, and the stretch of his girth makes your whole body dizzy and desperate for more.  He pauses and you just barely nod. 

The arm under you pulls you closer with his hand flat on your back while his other hand braces on your leg that’s hooked over him.  Then he pushes his stiff length into you with a grunt that becomes a loud sigh, and you gasp as his thick cock makes room for itself inside you.  He pauses when he’s mostly in, and you look into each other’s eyes.  

“Now fuck me,” you whisper.  

“Yes ma’am,” he growls.  He backs out all but the tip, then plunges into you completely.  Your mouth falls open with a moan as your bodies are finally joined and he bottoms out with a shudder.  

His lips latch onto yours as he retreats, then slams into you again with a grunt.  He buries himself in you, slow and hard, each time somehow better than the last.  Your hips roll into him, and together, you gradually up the tempo.  You kiss sloppily, half your mouths breathing heavily and vocalizing against each other’s cheek. Each exhale is a moan.

His hips roll fluidly against yours and his whole body tells you how bad he’s been wanting this. Every time he fills you up, you could cry from how good it feels.  He opens his mouth wide and puts it on your neck again, gently sucking your delicate skin into his mouth.  He grabs hold of your ass and uses the arm under you to gently put you on your back without fully pulling out.  Your legs wrap around him and he sheathes himself entirely once again.  

You hook your fingers under the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head.  He takes in the view of your whole body again before he leans back down.  

“You look so goddamn hot,” he says, looking down at you, thrusting into you. He looks hot, too.  

The moonlight reveals a faint farmer’s tan from the barbecue.  His pecs and triceps are pumped up and flexing as he moves in rhythm.  His hair is messy and perfect.  The silver bits of his beard glisten. 

He leaves space between you and reaches down to thumb your clit, almost putting you over the edge, but you quickly take his hand and pull his body back into yours.  

“About to come?” he asks.  You nod and take a deep breath.  He thrusts into you hard then slowly rocks his hips deep inside you with his neatly trimmed hair grinding into your clit.  The tension bursts inside you and you groan his name as a massive wave of pleasure overwhelms you.  Then another.  You clench around him and your body jerks erratically.  Your nipples go almost painfully hard and drag against him.  

He pushes deeper than you thought possible, balls tightening against your ass, and you gasp and moan. Then he grunts, pulses inside you, and his whole body shudders as you milk his cock.  You keep pulsing as he fills you up with his seed. Your whole body is drunk with him.  When you’re both finished coming, he looks at you, and himself, then you again as he catches his breath.  He strokes your face and says, “god damn.” 

You almost forget you’re two different bodies until he slides out of you, leaving a void your insides try to fill. He lays on his side and takes you in his arms again.  

-

He looks so peaceful.  At the moment, you don’t care if you still don't know what’s going on.  You don’t even care if he manipulated you into wanting this so desperately.  All you care about is whether this is going to happen again, and you’re terrified of finding out it’s not.  You start to worry about him going to do this job. 

After a long silence, you say,  “You don’t wanna do it, do you?”

“Do what?” 

“Whatever you have to go and do.”

The peace evaporates from his face.  He sighs.  “No. . . No, I don’t, sugar.”  He rubs his temples with the thumb and pinky of one massive hand.  

“Then why do it?”

“No choice,” he says. 

“That’s messed up,” you say.  “I mean, not having a choice.”

“Yeah, well, it was my own dumb ass.  Thought I was gettin’ outta somethin’ worse.  Didn’t know what I was gettin’ into.” 

“How do you get out of it now?”

“Finish the job, call it a day, see what happens.” 

“Really?”

“It’s been a long time comin’.” 

A couple seconds after he says it, a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.  He doesn’t have to make the joke out loud.  You playfully pinch his cheek. 

“Worth the wait?” he asks with a smirk.  

You shrug, and he says, “I’ll take it.” You can feel your whole face and body glowing.  You don’t need to spell it out.

-

You get pensive thinking about why now, why tonight.  “You weren’t just pissed at my dad, were you?”

He chuckles, then almost seems to panic when he sees you’re serious. “God, no, Trouble. . . “   His heart rate visibly quickens on his neck.  He didn’t even have to ask you what you meant.  He wraps his arms tight around you and kisses your head.  

“So whatever happened to ‘not tonight’?” you ask. 

“Couldn’t help it,” he says.  “Neither could you.”  Well, that’s true.  “Plus, now I don't have to worry ‘bout you findin’ out you didn’t blackmail me.  That woulda broken your sick little heart.”

“Maybe,” you say, still a little paranoid, but you push the thoughts away.  

“I don’t think your dad needs to know about this,” he says.  “That woulda been a sick serve though if I was mad at him,” he chuckles.

“Did you just say sick serve. . . “

“Sick serve,” he whispers in your ear.

“I don’t think that means what you– where do you pick this stuff up, anyway?” 

“Prolly Jesse, he never shuts up.”

“So, Jesse’s-”

Joel puts his thumb on your lips.  “Said too much already,” he says. “ You gotta keep it to yourself, okay?”  You give his thumb a little bite before he takes it away. 

It’s funny, you never had anything over him before, but now you kinda do.  Not that you’ll do anything with it.  Too dangerous. 

“Yeah,” you say.  

After a long silence, you ask, “What are you gonna do when it’s over?”

He sighs and adjusts his arms around you.  “This right here,” he says.  “If you want.”  

You fall asleep in his arms again. 

-

When you wake up, he’s gone.  It’s light outside.  Birds are chirping.  You have a text from him that says “Stay here if you want. Back in a couple days.”   You don’t stay there.  It’s too creepy without him.  You go back to your apartment, but you worry about him a lot and check your phone constantly.  A few days later, you get off work, and when you walk out of the bookstore, he’s parked there, leaning against his truck, ankles crossed, wearing Ray Bans and a t-shirt, jeans as tight as ever, arms tucked under his massive biceps.  

“Here comes trouble” he says as he pushes himself off his truck.  He puts his hands on his hips and lets his pants adjust as he pops out one knee.   

Your lips meet as he wraps his arms around you.  

“All done?” you ask.   

“Let’s celebrate,” he says.  “Got that same suite on the river.  Booked it for the rest of the month, so I reckon I’ll be around.”  

-

Thank you for reading and engaging with this story for all six parts, y'all have been so awesome!

FWIW I see this as a happy ending with ominous undertones lol. I think I will come back to these two in the future (assuming there's still interest now that they've fucked). That's why I didn't blow my whole load in over explaining the subplot in this part. I initially included the sub plot so there would be an interesting basis to come back to them after the main story.

I just started another (darker) dad's best friend story: Left in Lincoln. In addition to smut it's also slow burn horror but no gore. Heed warnings. . .

-

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-facee @str84pedro @ausamocee @skythighs @jasminedragon @leeeesahhh @blushynini @momia2910 

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime  @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose 

[leclerc-hs]

after hours - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: based upon ‘After Hours’ by the Weeknd….kinda? Warnings: angst? bad writing lmao, some smut Word Count: 1,955 Author's Note: Feel free to send in requests. I know I'm not the best writer but I have fun doing it anyways lmao kk love u all!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN'T ALWAYS like this. This mess of a situation that had caused utter chaos and pain that now lays awake inside the both of you. You used to be happy.

“Without you I can’t sleep,”

In the midst of a restless night, you couldn’t help but toss and turn. You were thrashing around and the sheets were at complete disarray from your constant kicking and rolling around. The oppressive summer heat was merciless as it couldn’t help but creep in through your windows and into your apartment. You had stripped down into a mere spaghetti strapped tank top with the most diminutive semblance piece of underwear. One would question the classification of such a minuscule garment. Sleep, in these circumstances, appeared to be pointless.

You spent, what felt like hours, relentlessly scrolling on your phone in hopes you would eventually grow tiresome. And it was working at first. That is, until you saw the Instagram story of him. Him at the club with friends. While you lie here completely alone and restless. 

The initial reaction to seeing this story was to roll your eyes. By the time 5 minutes had passed and you were still staring at it, you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach. It just doesn’t make sense. How is it that he can be out partying while you’re in bed incapable of sleep. Did he not care? Did he ever even love you?

You began to laugh at yourself. Of course, he didn’t love you. If he loved you, he wouldn’t have kissed another girl. He would’ve fought for you more.

“Girl, I felt so alone inside of this crowded room,”

The swarm of heat surrounded him. But not from the humid summer air like you. No, his form of insufferable heat was from the crowd of drunken bodies that filled the club. His friends had dragged him out. Told him he needed to ‘stop moping around’. Told him that he ‘needs time with his boys’ to cheer up.

The irony of this all weighed heavily upon him. A relentless reminder of the gaping void you have left behind. It was as if you had woven yourself into the very fabric of his consciousness. A presence that refused to be ignored.

It had only been a few weeks since he saw you last. But still, you would never leave his mind.

But who is he to complain? Who is he to even care about how he feels when its him who had destroyed one of the only good things in his life. It was all a mistake. One he would absolutely take back and delete its existence if he had that kind of power. 

“I know I made you fall,”

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me,” Your voice trembled with each shout of a word that you let out. The very walls that surrounded you felt as if they were caving in. It was unbearable. The act of betrayal was too blatant to ignore.

Your boyfriend in tabloids kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Kissing another woman. Publicly. 

The words repeated in your head like a broken record.

“Mon amour,” he started. You cut him off almost instantly. You could not be silenced. 

It was too quick. So quick, you couldn’t even process the rage that was igniting within you. One second, you held his phone in your hand. The next second, it was shattered all over the floor beside him. Smashed from impact of hitting the wall. A mirror of what your trust for him looked like.

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed. You ached. “I’m not your anything.” 

His mouth opened ready to fight back. Ready to do anything for your forgiveness. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t handle it. He needed you. 

“Not anymore,” you continued before grabbing your purse. “Don’t contact me. I can’t look at you.” You couldn’t even cry. Your eyes were red, puffy, and completely dry. Your body couldn’t even handle making more tears.

The worst part about this entire fight? Did you really want no contact, or did you just yearn for him to fight for you? The question loomed over you. 

Honestly, it’s a fine line. Deciding if the no contact really is the best option or if all you wanted was for him to show more effort for you. To try harder. Would you forgive him? Would you move on? 

“It was simply a blessing waking beside you,”

He couldn’t help but reminisce on all the mornings you spent together. Even at the club. He was shameless. 

The morning sun slowly began peeking through the cream-colored curtains of your bedroom. It was one of your favorite times. The time where you’re on the cusp of being lucid but not completely there yet. This time full of raw love and passion.

His fingers slowly trailed up your ribcage and to your nipples before giving them a slight pinch. Goosebumps arose wherever his fingers trailed.

“Mon amour,” his hips started rolling slowly into you.  Your nipple still pinched in between the rolling of his two fingers. “Give it to me” he said.

You were a moaning mess. “Please,” you were begging. Begging to reach that peak you oh so needed. 

“Tell me what you need,” The pace of his hips increased. The sound of skin to skin slapping mixed with the sounds of both of your moans filled the room and only pushed you towards the edge more. 

“Is it me, amour?” He started. “You always take me so well. So, fucking tight mon amour,” Charles was relentless now. His hips picked up pace urgently. He was feverishly reaching for that peak as well. He fucked himself into you so hard it was as if he was trying to burn the memory of you here with him for forever. 

“What a fucking salope,” He edged you further. “My fucking salope.”

“Come on, mon amour. Make a fucking mess of me,” It was right then. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. Your own thighs squeezed tighter together as you pulsed around him. His orgasm following soon after.

Charles breathed heavily behind you and placed gentle kisses along the backside of your shoulder blade. 

“You did so well, mon amour,” He pecked more kisses. “I never want to wake up without you.”

“Sorry that I broke your heart,”

It was well late into the night. In the dimly lit room, you found yourself wrapped in an emotional embrace. Hard knocks were heard on the front door of your apartment causing you to jump up in surprise. 

“Mon amour,” you heard him speak first on the other side of the door. You immediately stopped in your tracks. Your throat felt constricted. Those two words burned in your memory. It was as if mon amour had become your name. You couldn’t even remember the last time Charles used your real name. 

The tumultuous mixture of anger, betrayal, and love clawed at you. Making it difficult to discern your true feelings.

You hesitated. Whether you should open the door or not. His knocking became insistent. Loud. Each moment that passed his fist against the door went harder. 

Out of respect for your neighbors, you let him in. At least that’s what you told yourself to feel better. 

Charles was leaned against the door frame for support. He looked tired. A look of anger was in his eyes. He wasn’t in the right state of mind. He knew he had no right to be mad at you. But he was. He was being completely irrational as he marched his way over here.

“You are going to sit. You are going to listen to me,” He demanded as he pushed into your apartment. He gripped your wrist as he pulled you into the apartment and to the couch. You accept it anyways. Not because he deserved it, but because you need closure.

“The picture looks wrong,” he began. “I just need to explain this to you. Even if it doesn’t change anything.” He kneeled before you, in between your legs as he explained himself. His green eyes, a tad darker with a reddish tint lined around them, were staring solely into yours.

With a slight nod of your head, you let him continue.

“It’s all wrong. It’s not an excuse, but I did not kiss her back.” His words were sharp. As if he wanted to burn those words into your brain. 

“Pictures say otherwise, Cha,” you felt like you were going to throw up. This conversation burned tears into your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back. 

“She was a fan. She came up to me and grabbed me,” his hands slipped onto your knees and squeezed them tightly. “She grabbed me and kissed me.” His voice was cracking slightly as he let his head drop and rest on your legs.

You knew this information wouldn’t change much. It was still a kiss. One that shouldn’t have happened. 

“Whether she kissed you or you kissed her. It doesn’t change. Don’t you see?” You moved your knee so he would lift his head up. “It’s not going to change anything.” You said. You weren't even positive if it wouldn't change anything. But it was all that could come to mind. “It shouldn’t have even happened.”

“Mon,” 

You cut him off by standing up. “Would you stop calling me that!” You were shouting now. Walking from the confines of his presence. It was too much. He was too close. You couldn’t think properly. 

“I can’t,” He arose from his knees and stood beside the coffee table. “I will do anything.” It was then. His voice finally cracked, and you could sense that tears have started falling from his eyes. He didn’t even bother to wipe them as he sat down on the couch. Exactly where you were last seated. 

In a moment that could only be described as naïve or perhaps even foolish, the depth of your love for him exceeded all rationality. You couldn’t even stand to see him crying, even if he was the one who ignited these issues into your relationship. You still wanted to comfort him regardless. He didn’t deserve it and you knew that. But in this moment, you couldn’t even care if it made you weak. Because you wanted to feel his embrace too. 

You trailed back across the room to sit beside him to wrap your arms around him. The two of you entangled on the couch seeking some form of comfort. He didn’t deserve it – the comfort. Most importantly, didn’t deserve you. 

“I need you to leave,” you began. His arms wrapped tighter around you. He didn’t want to let go. It was as if his grip onto you as if he was physically holding onto what remained of your tattering connection. “Please.” You were begging as your head rested in the crook of his neck. 

You only felt him shake more. Undoubtedly, crying. But he understood.

“I just need space,” your voice was a fragile whisper. “I still love you. I miss you. I wish this never happened to us.” His lips pressed to any inch of skin that was within proximity. You felt his hot tears slip onto your skin with each kiss he pressed. 

The plea for space, while still expressing love and longing, demonstrates the need for personal boundaries and self-care.

“I will keep fighting for you,” He pulled away before standing up from the couch. “I will do anything. I promise you that. You are the love of my life.”

It wasn’t until then, that you felt your tears spill out of your eyes. With a small nod of your head, he walked out of the apartment with his heart still latched onto you. Yours with his. It was a tapestry of emotions left in wake.

[siilvan]

sun showers

characters: kyle "gaz" garrick

summary: gaz warms you up after you get caught in the rain.

prompts: 2. "do i make you nervous?"

genre: fluff, very light angst, roommate!gaz, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: semi-proofread, light cursing, brief references to canon-typical violence, like one innuendo at the end lol

word count: 1.5k

note: learned about gazfest and proceeded to speed-write a drabble-fic to celebrate :) big shoutout to @glitterypirateduck for curating this!

wrote half of this in one day and the other half the next. the quality drop is very obvious lol. i promise i've got better gaz fics planned for the future </3

"y'look like you just went swimming."

you slam the front door behind you, dropping your bag on the floor unceremoniously as you glare daggers at your roommate. kyle is lounging on the sofa, hot cup of tea in hand, sending you an amused look after tearing his eyes from the television.

"there wasn't any rain in the forecast today," you grumble in response, kicking off your sopping wet boots. you can see kyle set his mug on the table and rise from his spot, casually strolling into the small kitchen you shared. you figure he's going to grab a snack for himself and ignore him before trudging to your room to change clothes.

when you emerge again, in dry clothes and with a slightly better attitude, you're immediately greeted by your designated mug sitting on the countertop, filled nearly to the brim with steaming tea. you glance over and see kyle standing at another counter, busying himself with building a small plate of snacks, quietly humming a random showtune under his breath.

you carefully pick up the cup and take a sip, a comfortable warmth flowing through you, chasing away the bone-deep cold that you couldn't seem to shake even after arriving home. your eyes squeeze close briefly as you revel in it, and you miss the way he glances at you with a smile on his lips.

"figured you could use a little pick-me-up," kyle says, catching your attention. he brushes past you gently, carrying the plate to the coffee table and setting it down. "c'mon, you're probably still freezing." he adds, patting the spot next to him after sitting on the couch again.

"sometimes i forget how sweet you are." you shake your head and settle in next to him, carefully lifting your cup as he tosses a blanket over your legs.

he turns whatever show he was watching back on - some history documentary, you realize - and munches on one of the cookies from the plate, quietly relaxing next to you. you, meanwhile, are sipping on your tea, split between paying attention the show and watching him from the corner of your eye.

moments like this were truly rare for you two, despite your living situation. you came home at the end of every day, but for kyle, that wasn't a guarantee. he'd be gone for weeks, sometimes months, at a time, leaving you to care for your flat until he returned. you've never said it aloud, but you've grown to dread him leaving. the place felt lonely without him, like there was something important missing.

the way he reassures you before leaving and the check-in texts you receive daily while he's gone makes you think he knows already, despite you never saying a word to him about your feelings. he's attentive to a fault - you wouldn't be surprised if he knows you just as well as you know yourself.

"you okay?" his voice interrupts your train of thought suddenly. you jolt, almost spilling your tea, and hastily set it down on the table before turning to him. kyle's gaze is already on you, and your eyes quickly dart anywhere but his face as a warmth slowly creeps up the back of your neck.

"yeah, of course." you wave him off, pulling the blanket closer around yourself. "just chilly, is all. i'm already starting to feel better."

he hums, and you can still sense his gaze on you when he goes quiet. you desperately avoid eye contract, electing to stare at the television whilst not comprehending a single thing on the screen. anything to convince him that you're not having an internal war over whether you like him as a roommate or as something more.

a minute passes, and you think he's dropped it. until his voice, dropped to a near whisper, suddenly speaks right next to your ear.

"do i make you nervous?"

you jump, again, and whip your head around to look at him. kyle's leaned in close, a kind yet nervous smile on his lips, his arm swung over the back cushion to face you properly.

you quirk a brow at him. "nervous?" you ask, gaze finally flicking up to meet his. "no, not at all. why?"

he shrugs his shoulders and chuckles, visibly relaxing at your reply. "i don't know, i just– i'm not here often, i guess. didn't know if i was overstepping or something." he waves his free hand as he talks, trying to find the right words.

"kyle, you're probably the person i feel the safest around." you remark, scooting just a bit closer to him to emphasize your point. well, and to steal some of the heat radiating off him.

"i get that you feel safe, but–" he drops his hand to his side and sighs. "maybe i'm misunderstanding, but you looked like you felt off. just wanted to check in."

tell him, your brain shouts at you, seeing the opportunity. he already knows, all you'll be doing is giving him the reassurance that he always gives to you. the worst thing he can say is no; you'll lose your best friend and have to find a new place to live if he rejects you. that isn't a terrible risk, right?

except, it is. you worry the inside of your cheek and leave the comment hanging in the air for far too long. just as kyle opens his mouth to say something, you interrupt him.

"i don't like when you leave for work," you start, hands fidgeting in your lap. "the apartment feels empty without you– i feel empty without you. i was thinking about that and how much i'll miss stuff like this when you leave again."

for a moment, he just stares at you. it doesn't help with the nerves at all, and you mentally squirm under his scrutiny. your discomfort seems to snap him back into the present, though. kyle's face lights up, practically beaming with joy as he finally responds.

"i'm not going anywhere, not right now." he cups your cheek when you attempt to look away, keeping your focus on him with gentle fingers holding your head in place. "i hate leaving you. if i could be in two places at once, i'd be here around the clock. seeing your smile fall every time i walk out the door hurts like nothing else."

you stifle a small laugh and place your palm over his. "kyle, you've been shot. pretty sure that hurts worse than seeing me sad."

he purses his lips, thinking, before making a noise of disagreement. "ah, think i'd rather take a bullet than see you cry." he counters with a pensive nod, sending you into a fit of bemused giggles.

when you manage to compose yourself, mouth split in a wide grin, you meet his gaze again. kyle's mirroring your expression, though his attention is very clearly elsewhere. his eyes narrow, head dipping ever so slightly as his eyes flit between your own and your lips. it's a subtle gesture, a quiet way of asking for something without pushing you in any particular direction. your tongue darts out to wet your lips, an action that he watches with great interest, and you take in a calming breath before making your next move.

you lean forward, hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and press a kiss to his barely-parted lips. he hesitates for a moment, taken aback, but the reluctance is short-lived as he responds in kind, his hand sliding from your cheek to wrap around the nape of your neck. he pulls you in closer as his unoccupied arm slides off the back cushion, snaking around your waist.

the kiss was saccharine sweet from the start, but as you both pour every pent-up emotion you've suppressed into it, it almost becomes too much.

keyword: almost. it's not enough to make you want to stop.

kyle pulls back just enough to talk a few seconds later, resting his forehead against yours. "that, uh... you have no idea how long i've been dreaming about this." he mutters, chuckling.

"dreamed about anything else?" you ask, lips ghosting over his. he leans in to the featherlight touch, chasing it, forcing you to tilt back with an amused huff. he groans under his breath and straightens his back, giving your words some thought.

"yeah, loads of stuff. about you, though?" he pauses, clicking his tongue as he recalls the aforementioned dreams. "not sure if you're ready to hear those yet. most of 'em are probably best saved until after a proper date."

"there's going to be a date, then?" you ask, draping your arms over his shoulders.

with a lighthearted roll of his eyes, kyle nods. "'course there will. several dates, if you'll have me long enough." he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muffling your pleased hum.

your reply is a mere whisper fanning against his skin. "i'll have you as long as you're around. i'm already yours."

taglist: @sofasoap, @rohansregret

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

500 Followers = 500 Words Event: Jisung

No More Games.

-> Pairing: Han Jisung x gf!reader

-> Requested by: Anon

-> Prompt:  No. 10 - “I think we should end things here. It’s for the best.” 

-> Warnings: Pouty Jisung. One joke about Minho being the love of Jisung's life. Don't take it literally. I don't do the whole shipping thing but it's clear Minho is Jisung's safe space and soulmate, they remind me of me and my bestie a lot (I'm a lot like Jisung when it comes to anxiety and introvertedness). My bestie is my soulmate and we joke that we're each others platonic wife's. I also think if female friends can have friendships like that without being labeled anything, that men should be allowed to as well. I originally planned to have this angsty but it's his birthday. I couldn't bring myself to write angst.

-> Word Count: 533

-> Requests: Closed

-> Tag List: Open. Send me an ask or fill out this form - Tag List Form.

500 Words Event M.List | Jisung Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

“I think we should end things here. It’s for the best.” Y/N says, reaching to gather the game pieces. She had just won her fifth round, and she could sense her boyfriend's frustration mounting with every loss.  

Jisung stares at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, clearly taken aback by her suggestion to stop the game. He was hoping to keep playing until he could win at least one round.  

"Wait, why? We're just getting started!" He sulks, his voice a mix of disbelief and disappointment. 

Y/N pauses, her hand hovering over the game pieces. She glances across the coffee table at him, taking in the way his brows are furrowed and the way his lips are pouted slightly. 

"Jisung," she begins, her voice softening, "You were practically fuming over there a minute ago."  

He shakes his head, his expression one of determination. This is his girlfriend’s favourite game. He’s been learning to play it so it could be something they do together when she can’t meet up with her friends which had been often lately. "I’ve been learning how to play so you can still play it when you're not with your friend. I also took every free moment that I had to practice. I just need one more chance to show you that I can play this game!" A hint of desperation appeared in his eyes. 

Y/N can’t help but smile at his little confession. “But it’s your birthday. We should be doing something you want to do.” 

“I’m already doing what I want to do,” he assures her. “I spent the day with the boys and now I’m spending the rest of my birthday with the love of my life.” 

“Minho’s here?” she asks pretending to look for her boyfriend’s boyfriend. 

“Hahaha,” he laughs sarcastically.  

“I’m just kidding,” She chuckles and leans over and placing a soft peck to his lips. “But seriously, let’s do something you want to do.”  

"What I want to do is play one more round of this game," he insists. 

“One more round,” she concedes, holding her hand up with one finger raised. “But if you lose again, we are putting the game away and doing something else.”  

His face breaks into a wide grin, his disappointment melting away. He leans forward to reset the pieces on the board, his eyes sparkling with determination. “I’m so going to win this time. I can feel it!”  

As they begin a new round, Y/N can’t help but admire the way Jisung’s focuses, his brow furrowing in concentration as he bites his lip. She watches him, so much affection her heart swells. If she were an anime character, there would be love hearts drawn in her eyes, showing how much love she has for him. 

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious like this,” she teases, her heart eyes now twinkling with mischief.  

He glances up at her, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Stop it! I’m just trying to concentrate here,” he retorts, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

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